Revenge Is Such Sweet Sorrow
by dixiegurl13
Summary: Transformers: Prime. The death of those closest to you can often change you in fundamental ways. Throw in the revenge factor, and you'll often find yourself in unusual circumstances.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Stars filled the night with a faint glimmer; their cold, eons-old light the only luminance in an inky black Earthen sky. Thousands of pinpricks gently reflected off the illustrious red gloss coat of the Aston Martin as it cruised easily down a deserted highway. The purr of the engine remained the only sound that reverberated in the darkness. He greatly enjoyed nights such as these. The roads were wide-open with nary a soul to be seen. Speed was optional and he could go as fast or slow as he pleased. The asphalt had been newly paved and he could still feel the vestiges of warmth from this planet's sun radiating up through his tires. It felt good, amazing in fact, to open his engine up and let the 12-cylinders of his alt mode roar their horsepower to the heavens. Ah, humans. Given their organic nature, they did know how to design superb automobiles. Pitty.

Humans. The reason he was here on this nightly jaunt. Well, one human in particular.

As he crested a hill on the Interstate known as I-25, the shimmering lights of the stars blended into the brighter, more garish lights of a human city. Traffic had increased slowly as he approached the Albuquerque city limits. So as not to attract too much unnecessary attention, he slowed his speed to within "acceptable" limits. The watery orange light of the street lamps blinked by as he cruised down the interstate, scanning the city signs for his destination. Finally, his exit appeared and the Aston gently merged off of interstate and down the ramp, sliding right at the foot and merging once again into the infrequent flow of human traffic. He savored nights such as these.

Several stoplights later, he found the place he had been seeking—a dimly lit parking lot nestled between two larger buildings. Overgrown trees hugged the corners of one muted gray, concrete structure, the security cameras intermittently blocked by the scruffing of twigs and leaves against the lenses. Once again, the watery orange light of the street lamps illuminated the parking space under which he sat. The wind had picked up. Bits of paper danced on the currents and across the empty lot, twirling and flagging like dancers upon a stage with no audience. Obscured by the cityscape he could see a darker mass on the horizon, laced periodically with streaks of white electricity. A storm. Good. Under normal circumstances he detested the precipitation on this planet. The mineral content of the rainwater and the salts and motor fluids left on the human roadways always blunted his finish, but tonight—was no normal circumstances. Tonight, he would welcome the storm if only this one time.

A couple hours rolled across his chronometer. The storm clouds that had been building in the distance now obscured the entirety of the night sky. Lightning flicked across their surface with fervency. Suppressing a low growl, he was almost ready to give up on the night when a rusted and battered tow truck pulled into the lot. The tires were balding and he could see the steel threads peeking through the dry-rotted rubber as the truck pulled to his front and then backed neatly up to his bumper. Finally.

Two humans emerged from a trash-laden cabin, a McDonald's cup following the driver as he slid from the seat. The empty cup bounced twice before pitching across the lot, disappearing in the wind.

"Man! Look at this beauty!" the passenger softly exclaimed as he bent to examine the gold rims of the Aston Martin.

"Should fetch quite a pretty penny, dontcha think?" the driver replied, casting a hasty look across the parking lot before lowering the tow brackets to the asphalt. He worked quickly and efficiently, placing the brackets around the Aston's tires and pinning them in place. Cars like this were few and far between. They needed to move quickly to get this jewel off the street before its owner reported it missing. A successful jack like this…well, he could cruise easy for a few weeks before hitting the streets again.

"All right! Let's go! Let's go!" the driver said, leaping into his seat and slamming the old truck into Drive.

His passenger laughed excitedly, greed lighting his hazel eyes like a child at Christmas. "Oh, man! I can't wait to see the look on Darren's face when we bring in this beaut!"

"Let's get there first, Doug," the driver chastised. Jacking Hondas and Nissans were one thing. Car jacking an Aston without attracting attention was a bit more nerve-wracking.

The wind was howling with rage when the tired tow truck pulled into a decrepit and dilapidated warehouse next to the trainyard. Shards of broken glass littered the pavement and crunched like gravel as the tires of the vehicles transitioned from asphalt to smooth concrete within. Despite the outward appearance of the building, the interior was immaculate. Gleaming four-post lifts lined the walls, each cradling a car in various stages of disassembly. Black fabric hung in the broken window rafters to obscure the cold fluorescence of the lights that illuminated the workers in the chop shop. The tow truck rolled to a stop in the midst of the organized chaos, the large garage door slowly sliding closed behind the Aston's rear bumper. To the left, a weld torch created a dazzling cascade of orange-white sparks as it's operator quickly finished his task.

The driver and his passenger exited the tow truck, grins splitting each of their faces as the welder stood up and then lifted his helmet from his face.

"Boss! Check it out!" Doug exclaimed, no longer able to contain his excitement.

"Nicely done, Jack. I assume you were extra-discreet with this one?" the boss Darren, asked, raising a speculative blonde eyebrow.

"Absolutely, Darren. Not a fucking soul to be seen. It was like Lady Luck just dropped her into our laps," Jack replied, walking over and giving the red fender a pat.

Darren's slight smile suddenly soured. "Jack! Uber-nice European cars don't just fall outta the sky! She could be a plant!"

"I swear, Darren! No cops were around! Doug gave her a good once-over while I was hooking up," Jack exclaimed, back pedaling as Darren confronted him.

"Yeah! I did! Man! Ain't been a copper yet that could plant a bug I couldn't find," Doug exclaimed, sliding around the Aston's rear quarter panel to come to his partner's aide. "I swear Darren! No bugs! She's clean! She's clean!"

Darren glared down at the two younger accomplices, a sharp retort on his lips when suddenly the red sports car lurched in the tow brackets.

"OH, ENOUGH OF THIS ALL READY!" A thunderous voice boomed across the floor of the warehouse. The lift boom on the tow truck snapped like a pretzel as the Aston Martin that once sat peaceably behind the truck, folded _out_ then _in,_ rising up behind the three petrified humans to become a huge, menacing metallic shadow.

"What the fuc-!" Doug heard Darren exclaimed before turning around to see the mass of red metal behind him.

"Seriously! 'She?' 'She!?' Must you vermin always refer to your automobiles in the feminine? Do I look like a femme to you now!?" the giant roared, casting its arms open in mock disbelief. Its eyes? For that is what Doug could only equate them to, blazed like a fiery furnace as they quickly surveyed the interior of the warehouse before resting on the three of them. Not a single person breathed as the metal monster's question hung in the open air. Incredulity, shock, and fear petrified every single member of Darren Glascow's chop shop.

Knock Out smirked as nary a soul dared to breathe. He surveyed the scene casually, not in the least perplexed that the humans were beholding his true form. After all, Darren Glascow ran a tight ship. Cell phones were not permitted in the shop. Besides, security cameras were nothing a little electromagnetic pulse couldn't handle.

"Darren Glascow." Knock Out rumbled lowly, kneeling down to be slightly more at eye level with the human.

The chop shop owner remained frozen. He slowly pulled his tongue across his lips as his mind raced to comprehend what was before him. His eyes were wide with fright and also…. recognition. No, he had never seen this monstrosity before in his life, but he had seen one very similar—several months ago. It was a life he tried to desperately bury and apparently had failed.

The smirk on the metal face widened just a fraction. "It is Darren Glascow, isn't it? I would hate to be crashing the wrong chop shop party if it weren't. But then again, how many Darren Glascows could there be…. that run a _chop shop?"_ Knock Out purred smoothly, admiring the florescent flash of the light against his steel-sharpened digits. The flaming red optics rested once again on the human named Darren.

Darren licked his lips again and this time, was able to stutter a few words. "Yo…You…You….You…. you're one of them!? For…for…Christ's sake! I'm no longer a part of that!" His eyes frantically searched the metal face for any trace of understanding. None was forthcoming.

Knock Out chuckled, the sound loud and reverberating in the confines of the warehouse. "Oh, but you are. After all, you were well and prepared to chop me."

"I -I-I-didn't know you was one of _them!"_

"Well, now you know," the Decepticon stated. His optics then glowed like hellfire flames. Suddenly, his arm transformed to become a gleaming saw blade. The teeth were meticulously polished to such an extent that Darren could see his reflection in each and every tooth. "What's that phrase you humans like to say? Oh! Yes. Paypack's a b—" The sound of the saw whirring to life filled the warehouse.

Human screams were lost to the raging thunderstorm that enveloped the city. The lights in the building flickered then died, the contour of the building lost in the sheets of rain that pummeled the structure. Several minutes passed after the last gurgled scream was lost to the wind. The garage door squealed in protest as it was lifted in place without any power. Knock Out emerged into the squall and transformed back into his vehicle mode. White smoke streamed from his tires as he peeled away from the warehouse. The pelting rain _plinked _off his paint in large fat droplets, mixing with the blood that splattered his door panels. Rivulets of red water sluiced down his frame to eventually become clear once again as he raced across the pavement.

Yes. Just this once he didn't mind the rain.


	2. Chapter 1: A Fresh Start

**A/N: Welcome to my next installment. This is a building chapter for events to come. It's lengthy and doesn't include our main squeeze, but it is integral. I try my hardest to create original, fresh characters that possess flaws and are relatable-particularly human characters. Reviews, comments, and suggestions are always welcome.**

**Chapter 1:**

The first hints of a golden, early morning sunrise touched the horizon near the outskirts of San Jose, CA. Dr. Terra Evans gazed upon the rising sun while sipping her black coffee; she inhaled the rich aroma, deeply appreciating the caffeine molecules it contained. Truly, early mornings were her only window of utter peace. In about half an hour her day would begin with the boisterous shouts of her two young sons, nine and seven respectively, as they prepared for school. Her husband, Mark, would be trying to wrangle the boys while preparing for work himself. She wouldn't trade it for all the serenity in the world. A small smile split her thin lips as she gently reflected on the trials and responsibilities of being a mother, a wife, and a working professional. The pitter-patter of bare feet on hardwood aroused her from her reflections. She swept open the sliding glass door on the patio slipped into the kitchen just as her sons, Nick and Terrence, slid into the kitchen one nearly on top of the other.

"I win!"

"Do not! You cheated!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!" Nick pounced on his younger brother and proceeded to rub his fist vigorously into the sandy locks of his sibling.

"Ow! Quit it!" Terrence yelped, struggling in vain to worm out of the headlock Nick held him in.

"Boys! Enough!" Terra scolded, setting her cerulean coffee mug down on the island. She walked over to the stove and filled two small plates with a helping of fluffy, scrambled eggs. She turned back around and placed the plates in front of the two boys. The race temporarily forgotten, they wasted no time digging into their breakfast. A small plate of sliced apples and two small glasses of apple juice finished the breakfast ensemble.

The sound of steadier, more measured footsteps sounded from the stairwell. Terra glanced up to see her husband enter the kitchen, hands fumbling awkwardly at a blue tie around a white, pressed collared shirt. She grinned widely and met him halfway into kitchen, throwing a quick peck on the cheek as he passed. Mark smiled warmly and gave his wife a solid hug.

"Good morning," he whispered into her honey-colored hair, returning the peck with one of his own.

"Good morning. Coffee?" Terra asked, turning to the pot and pulling an extremely aged Waffle House mug from the cupboard.

"Absolutely," Mark replied, accepting the proffered cup and taking a deep pull. He then placed the mug back on the counter and proceeded to finish tying his tie. "Busy day?" he asked.

"Not so much. I'm just going to finish my report and tidy up some loose ends at the office," Terra answered. Her green eyes warmly watched as her sons wolfed their breakfast down. "I was actually hoping to get home early this evening…maybe play some ball with the kids when they get off school. What about you?" She countered, turning to look back at Mark.

He shrugged. "Same old. Same old. I do need to review market reports with Jerry at some point this week, but I'm still waiting for some numbers from Accounting." He glanced at his wrist. "Ope! I'm behind! Gotta go, honey. See you tonight!" He gave Terra another quick peck on the cheek, snagged his suit from a peg beside the front entrance and then prepared to open the front door. "You boys have a good day in school!" He called over his shoulder and then disappeared down the sidewalk.

Terra smiled to herself and then busied her hands packing two small lunches. The boys were almost done with their breakfast and the bus would be arriving soon.

"Done!" Nick chirped as he slid his plate towards his mother.

"Done!" parroted Terrence, sliding off the stool and darting into the front hallway before Terra could say anything further. Nick gave his little brother a disapproving scowl and then looked back up at his mother.

"Mom, may I be excused?" he asked, a tiny hint of smugness tinting his voice since he remembered his manners and his brother had not.

Terra suppressed a sigh and tousled her eldest's head. "Yes, Nick, you are excused. Go make sure your brother puts his shoes on the right feet. I'll be right there with your lunches." Nick gave his mother a grin and shot off to join his sibling. Yes, her life was finally on the right track. Things had been stressful at first. The kids had not wanted to leave their old home, their school, or their friends. Who could blame them? They were much too young to understand why the family was being uprooted. Mark had just started as a marketing analyst too. Things had been good. Apparently too good.

A cloud passed over her eyes and she lowered her lashes in shame. They still didn't know. Not the kids. Not even her husband, but Mark had been so supportive of her in all of this. He had not resented her in the slightest. He was a true blessing in her life. Her previous position had required a high degree of confidentiality. There were many things she was not at liberty discuss. Not even with him. Of the utmost importance, the reasons why she and her family were forced to relocate. Guilt filled her stomach and twisted it into a knot. She should have known. She should have seen the signs, but her thirst for knowledge and her curiosity had blinded her. And the power at their fingertips had blinded all the rest of them. All at the expense—

Terra shook her head determined to not fall into that depressive state of mind. No. She had done the right thing. It had to have been the right decision. The US government knew that and had orchestrated their relocation. They had even covered for her, claiming her work as a top-secret research project in their possession. The move to California had been a result of her successful endeavors and the government wanted to reward her efforts with a promotion to a new position. It was a snug alibi story. And for all intents and purposes, it had worked. Their lives had continued unhindered and unencumbered. And yet…. Dr. Terra Evans still lived with the guilt knowing that her research had been the lynch pin which resulted in the first ever alien-human symbiosis. Her data had been derived from the torture and disassembly of an extra-terrestrial being. First contact wasn't supposed to have happened on a dissection table. Granted, she had blown the whistle as soon as she discovered what her former company had actually been doing, but it did little to alleviate the guilt she carried day in and day out. Guilt for the experiments that had been carried out on the alien machine…guilt for not realizing sooner her research was being used for nefarious purposes, guilt for forcing her family to uproot their lives as a result of her blind curiosity and career ambitions.

"MOM! Bus is here!"

Nick's shout jolted Terra from her reverie. She placed the coffee mug back on the counter and rushed to the front door, lunch boxes in hand. She quickly straightened Terrance's jacket and gave both boys a quick hug before they dashed down the sidewalk and onto the waiting bus. She waved them off from the front door, a small tear clinging to the corner of her eye.

She was so very fortunate. Here was opportunity to have a fresh start, a new beginning. Not many people were as fortunate as she. She sighed and finished gathering her things for her work day. The past was the past. She couldn't change it, but she could sure as hell change the future. Dr. Terra Evans wasn't about to squander this opportunity.

With a flourish she grabbed her own lunch, car keys, and her lab coat. Her waltz down memory lane had left her running slightly behind schedule. Had she not been in such a hurry, she might have caught a glance of a black Chevy Tahoe that had pulled onto the street and parked just three houses north of her own. As it was, she didn't notice the conspicuous vehicle when she backed down the drive, nor did she see it slowly pull out to follow her as she entered the street and proceeded to her workplace.


	3. Chapter 2: Consequences

**A/N: It's been pleasant getting back into writing again. I've also enjoyed re-reading my faves and my older works. Hopefully, I'll figure out the best way to wrap those up. Disclaimer: Don't own TFP or any of the characters, I just deeply enjoy trying to get into their head and writing about them. This work is completely fictional. This chapter contains some developmental stuff, some action stuff, and more story-build stuff. Rest-assured some action chapters will come, but we must first set the stage dear readers. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 2: Consequences**

_"Authorities are baffled by a mass-homicide that occurred in downtown Albuquerque earlier today. Albuquerque police say that at approximately 4:00 am Monday morning, they discovered a grisly scene located near the Albuquerque railyards. At least 10 people were found dead inside an abandoned warehouse formerly owned by MILTECH Industries. Albuquerque PD are not releasing details at this time; however, an anonymous source has told our affiliate station that no suspects are being considered at this time due to lack of physical evidence. According to a press statement released earlier today they do suspect that this incident may be related to the increased tensions between multiple gangs in the area. Police are advising the public to avoid the area at this time while investigations are ongoing. More details to follow….Jake, how's the weather in the Bay area today?" _

Terra idly tuned the television out as she went about the weekday school morning routine. The news could be so depressing these days. She liked having the murmur in the background, the white noise a pleasant filler that strangely complimented the shouts of the children. Speaking of…per business as usual the children scampered into the kitchen, wolfed down their breakfast amidst jostling, and some rough-housing and then raced back upstairs to finish getting ready for school. Terra smiled inwardly. Oh, how she longed for the days when her biggest struggle was completely her homework on time.

Fifteen minutes later the boys were on the bus. Another morning complete. Preparing to leave the house, Terra clicked the television off, blissfully unaware that her morning routine was to be altered forever. How dismally ironic that decisions made in the past create consequences that can shatter the future.

* * *

"She should have left for work 10 minutes ago."

"Who knows? Maybe she called in. Maybe she's running late. In any event did you plant the package?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I planted the package."

"Good. The Boss wants it done tonight."

"At least she's already home. Why not just do it now?"

"No. The Boss doesn't want just her. He wants all of them—the husband, the kids. No exceptions."

The second figure shrugged his shoulders. Fine by him. He was getting paid either way.

* * *

The cityscape sprawled before him as thousands of twinkling lights dotted the landscape in preparation for the coming twilight. The Bay area of California did create quite the spectacle, especially on the rare occasion the area was not shrouded in dense smog. It was one of the few occasions when he actually appreciated this planet and some of the things it contained. The visual vaguely reminded him of the cities on Cybertron, long before war, and long before the planet had died in the strife that had consumed it.

Pulling his attention from the cityscape, Knock Out began reviewing the recently collected information from his last…interrogation. He smirked inwardly to himself. That had been fun. Additionally, if he were completely honest with himself, this entire sidebar mission was extremely entertaining. It had been approximately 8.2 lunar cycles since Breakdown's capture by MECH. It had been less than one lunar cycle since CYLAS had been off-lined by Airachnid. Requesting permission from Megatron to pursue such an endeavor had been surprisingly easy. As long as his jaunts didn't interfere with any major mission planning, Megatron could not have given a frag what he did in his spare time. But it went without saying, should Knock Out wind up in similar circumstances that resulted in Breakdown's capture, there would be no retrieval. Fine by him. It made this cat-and-mouse game just a little more motivating.

Seeking vengeance on the human terrorist group had been as invigorating as it had been frustrating. CYLAS had splintered the group after turning on them. Thus far, he'd been honing his interrogation techniques on the peons—those members that were outliers and not 100% committed to their organization's cause. They were easy targets to acquire. It had been a simple thing to find the site where CYLAS had killed his followers. It had been even easier to acquire the data files on several personnel from the ruined mainframe. None of them had cared to cover their digital signatures—bank transfers, credit transactions—tracing these things had been child's play. Most had just turned tail and deserted ranks, some returning to trades in black-market activities such as car theft, drug running, larceny, loan sharking, and his personal favorite—illegal street racing and chop shopping.

Ah, Darren Gloscow. Those screams had delivered a delicious satisfaction to his audio receptors. Afterall, Darren Glascow had been one of the MECH commandos that had taken Breakdown the first time. Finding and dispatching that human had felt intensely satisfying. And yet…he had had no luck locating any of the humans that had been higher in the chain of command. Killing the humans that had done the dirty work was pleasing, but what Knock Out truly wanted to get his servos on was the command structure. CYLAS may have been terminated, but there were others that helped him orchestrate his nefarious plans. And suspiciously enough, none of the command chain's personnel files were in the mainframe he had hacked at the old, destroyed installation. Of particular note: MECH 1.

He rolled back on his wheels a little, attempting to clear his processor. No matter. He'd find that fleshbag sooner or later. In the meantime, it was devilishly good fun chasing the leads he did have. At some point he was bound to find a human that had intel on MECH 1's whereabouts.

Currently he was on his most promising development. Of the remaining personnel he had gleaned from the mainframe, there were two humans still in MECH's employ and he had followed them here, to the Bay area of California. San Jose to be specific. His last victim had confirmed their active status.

Being a medic had its advantages. As the Decepticon Chief Medical Officer, Knock Out was well-versed in anatomy and physiology. Both Cybertronian AND NOW human. He loved learning new things. Granted this did not mean he liked learning about inner human functions. Their carbon-based bodies were horrifically disgusting; however, learning their anatomy was a means to an end—often a painful, terrifying and vicious end. He could overlook a little mess if it meant furthering his interests in MECH's dealings. And while he was perfectly capable of fixing almost anything, fleshlings now included, Knock Out took immense pleasure in breaking his patients, breaking them mentally and physically. Some called it torture. Knock Out preferred the term "coercive medical treatment."

His engine revved to life. The sun had set and darkness was creeping across the landscape. It was time to give his next patients a house call.

* * *

Evening had settled across the city. The soft glow of the street lamps gently illuminated the street in front of Terra's home. Dinner had just finished. Mark stood in the kitchen by the sink, washing the more stubborn food stuffs from the casserole dish before placing it in the dishwasher. The children were seated at the now-cleared dining room table, diligently finishing their homework assignments before bath time.

Terra walked into the kitchen, catching Mark's eye as she entered. "Honey, did you happen to stop by the box and grab the mail on your way in?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah dammit. I knew I was forgetting something," Mark chided himself, eyebrows scrunched in annoyance. Terra smiled and pat his cheek.

"No worries. I can go to the box. I'll be right back," she replied, giving him a quick peck before dawning her jacket, snatching the mailbox keys and walking out the door. She neglected to turn the porch light on, feeling that it wasn't really necessary for this short, little excursion. Collecting the mail was an innocuous enough activity, one that many people did every day. However, in the Evans household, Mark generally collected the daily delivery, not Terra, and it was this slight deviance from routine that saved her life.

* * *

Down the street and in the opposite direction of the mailboxes, set a black Chevy Tahoe. It was a darker portion of the street, one that slightly obscured their view of the Evan's home. A necessary slight in order to remain inconspicuous on this mission.

"What time is it?"

"1900."

"Good. They should be finishing dinner about now. You have the detonator?"

"Right here." An evil grin split the lips of the agent. His partner returned the look. Tonight, they would finally be done with the stake-outs. Tonight, they would have wrapped-up one more loose end.

"On my mark…Three…Two…One…. Mark!"

The quiet residential street erupted with a deafening explosion, flames leaping for the stars. Glass shattered on all the houses within 500 feet of the Evan's residence. Car alarms blared and shrieked. The neighboring houses on either side of the Evan's residence were afire, each sustaining immense damage from the detonation. The street lamps flickered and died as the area transformer overloaded and then caught fire.

The job complete, the black Chevy Tahoe whipped around and quickly vacated the area lost in the confusion and hysteria that quickly engulfed the neighborhood.

* * *

Terra had just reached the mailboxes that stood on the end of her street. As she reached down to unlock her box, a deafening explosion of light, sound, and heat buffeted her body, forcing the doctor to crouch and shield her face. All around her car alarms began to wail and people were screaming.

The mail forgotten, she stood up and immediately looked in the direction of her home, a wall of flame and smoke obscuring her vision.

"No," she whispered, feet moving automatically back in the direction she came. "No…no," she repeated, picking up pace. Suddenly she was sprinting, tears stinging her eyes as she rounded the corner and stopped dead.

All that remained of her home was a fiery inferno. The two neighboring houses were also aflame. Charred debris littered the street. Some wooden pieces had even impaled a few of the cars that had been parked on the street. Broken shards of glass glistened in the firelight, casting fiendish reflections of the hell that was unfolding before her. Sirens screamed in the distance and Terra was vaguely aware of other people yelling and screaming. All the blood drained from her face and she slumped to her knees, hands buried in her hair as she screamed.

"NNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

Knock Out felt the explosion at the same time his sensors registered it. Odd. It definitely wasn't a normal occurrence in human dwelling areas. In the distance he could see the large billowing cloud that marked the source of the disturbance. He quietly parked himself on a side street and decided to listen in on the communication channels, his curiosity about the calamity temporarily dimming his desire to find his next "patients."

He could easily monitor all the various wavelengths of communication and Primus, were they buzzing with activity! An explosion…possible gas line…. several casualties…flames spreading to nearby homes…emergency services en route. Knock Out smirked. Such destruction. How absolutely grand. Suddenly, his audios caught a fragment of conversation that didn't fit anything else on the airwaves.

"_Boss, it's done. The targets have been eliminated…Well, done. You have served MECH well today…"_

His engine roared amidst smoking rubber as Knock Out peeled out of his parking spot. They WERE here! They were responsible! How grand indeed! The frequency for the communication had been encrypted, at least from human detection. He quickly traced the signal and began to home in on it. Anticipation, excitement, and eagerness fired through his systems like high grade energon. Tonight, would be another successful termination.

It wasn't long afterwards that he identified the source of the transmission. Ahead, a black SUV had entered the large thoroughfare. Settling in a good distance behind the vehicle, Knock Out followed them, patiently waiting for right opportunity to strike.


	4. Chapter 3: Revelations

**A/N: Well, it's been a hot minute since I've wrote any action sequences, so I hope this one satisfies. For the record, you'll find a taste of "unpleasantness" in this chapter as KO deals with his antagonists. I don't gloss over details as my other stories will attest. Enjoy and drop a review if you so desire.**

**Chapter 3: Revelations**

"We have company."

"Oh? Cops?"

"No, worse. One of _them_."

The passenger swore under his breath. "Shit. And we're not equipped to handle one of these guys either."

"You don't think I know that!? For fuck's sake!" his partner said vehemently.

"Well? Can we outrun him?"

"We're sure as hell gonna try," and with that the driver punched the accelerator.

Knock Out had been following the SUV for a good hour, honestly just waiting for them to notice him. Within that time, he had been studying the layout of the city intensely, annotating freeways, thoroughfares, city arteries, circle avenues and of particular note: dead-end streets. In any event he hoped these two flesh sacks would at least give him a run for his credits.

Then as if on cue, the Tahoe rocketed away from him, rear tires protesting loudly at the sudden acceleration.

"Well now. Let the games begin," he purred to himself, the tale-end of his sentence lost in the thundering reply of his engine as he launched after the retreating vehicle. Street lamps blurred into fuzzy spheres of orange. The Tahoe weaved and dodged through traffic, making a vain attempt to place as many vehicles between it and the pursuing Aston Martin as it could. Some cars braked without warning as the SUV zipped by, others swerved to the side. Knock Out neatly avoided them all. His focus on the Tahoe was absolute and when the traffic pattern opened for a fraction, he took full advantage. He downshifted quickly, RPMs edging to the red zone as he devoured the distance between himself and his target. Within seconds his front bumper was nearly touching their rear one, another click and he was on their left quarter panel. Within two more seconds he had pulled ahead of the black SUV and then skidded to halt directly in their path.

"What the fuck!" the driver exclaimed as he wrenched the wheel sharply to the right to avoid colliding with the Decepticon. The Tahoe slid sideways, one rear wheel losing contact with the road surface as the other three tires screeched for traction. He narrowly missed clipping the red car, as they raced down a side street and away from their pursuer. However, a brief glimpse in the rear view revealed the red sports car was once again on their rear bumper.

"Holy shit, Mike! Can't you shake him?!"

"I'm trying. I'm _TRYING!" _

Knock Out downshifted again, the increased torque to his rear wheels giving him enough acceleration to tap the rear bumper of the SUV. It lurched violently as the driver struggled to control the suddenly loose rear end. He cursed under his breath and yanked the wheel again, darting down a one-way street in the wrong direction.

Oncoming traffic blared their horns and swerved this way and that, as the Tahoe cut a path of escape. But through it all they couldn't shake their red shadow. Several times Mike veered onto a different street, losing sight of his pursuer only to look up and see that the red Aston was blocking his path. Each time he swerved again and again. Several times the red sports car had pulled up next to him. In a fit of rage and desperation, Mike swung into the car trying to use the larger and heavier SUV to run the Decepticon off the road. Each time Knock Out neatly avoided the hit. Mike was getting the sinking feeling that maybe this alien lifeform was "playing" with them. It only fueled his desperation.

Before he knew it, Mike was racing alongside an aqueduct, the black water churning out his left window. Pavement had given way to a dirt access road and suddenly street lamps, residences, and witnesses were few and far between.

"Mike! Watch out!" his partner screeched suddenly, but it was already too late. Knock Out, officially tired of the game and satisfied they were far enough way from prying eyes, drew even to the right rear quarter panel and slammed into it. Hard. The sudden loss of traction on the right rear wheel, caused the SUV to spin uncontrollably on the dirt surface. As the vehicle entered its second 360, the front left wheel connected with a deep pot hole, changing the Tahoe's inertia and flinging it into a violent series of flips. The black vehicle rolled several times before leaping the guardrail and tumbling towards the swift water of the aqueduct. With a large splash the vehicle hit the surface of the water and immediately began to sink, cold mountain water pouring through the shattered windows.

Knock Out stopped at the edge, his headlights two, bright pinpricks above the surface of the water. Suddenly he transformed, rising up on the edge on the concrete embankment. His first instincts were to let the two MECH soldiers drown, but given his last encounter, maybe they would have some useful information concerning where MECH was operating now. He could always drown them when he was done with them.

Knock Out took two steps down to the water's edge, one hand gripping the guarding rail, the other reaching in to hook the upturned SUV by its rear bumper. He hauled the mangled wreck out of the aqueduct, dropping it unceremoniously back in the center of the access road. Eying the ruined vehicle speculatively, he knelt down beside it, transforming one arm into his saw blade. It whirred to life. Yellow-orange sparks showered the road bed as the he sawed the Tahoe neatly down its long axis. The two halves of the vehicle fell open, revealing one half-drowned occupant. The driver, Mike, was dead. A brief scan told Knock Out his neck had snapped. Pity. Such a quick, merciful death for one that deserved to be dissected. Just as his partner had been.

The other human, lay gagging and coughing on the road, the two halves of the Tahoe on either side of him. Turning, Knock Out focused on the one living human, snatching him up from the road in a taloned servo.

The pathetic being gagged and gasped, lungs already irritated from being half-filled with water and now being squeezed in Knock Out's unrelenting grip.

"Please!" he rasped, "Don't kill me!"

"Why?" Knock Out asked, optics narrowing as he squeezed a little harder. "You lot certainly didn't have any reservations about capturing Breakdown, now did you?" The soldier didn't reply, his efforts in freeing himself only re-doubling. But to no avail. With each wriggle Knock Out's grip became tighter and tighter. "Tell me where MECH is operating."

"Go. FUCK. Yourself." The soldier spat. Knock Out narrowed his optics and then shrugged, a very small smirk tugging on his lip components.

"That was extremely rude," he replied. The human merely glared. "And I don't appreciate ill-mannered vermin," he said lowly. His optics traveled to his right hand and just as he suspected, the human's eyes followed. With a subdued whir, Knock Out transformed his hand into his drill. The drill bit end glistened under the starlight, a faint red glow on its edges reflecting the light from his optics. "Now. I will ask you one more time. Where is MECH hiding?" To emphasize his point, Knock Out knelt down once more, lowering his captive to the ground and pinioning him place with two digits on either arm. He then lowered the drill, his smirk widening a fraction as the spinning spiral hovered closer and closer to the human's face.

The human paled even more, his white skin nearly translucent as he eyed the spinning appendage. Knock Out's voice floated above the drill bit, taunting. "Isn't this how Silas removed my partner's optic? I wonder if I could replicate the procedure…on you," he growled, upping the drill's intensity.

The bit was so close now, he could feel the wind whispering off it. Unable to handle the thought of that wicked tool gouging his eye out, the soldier cracked.

"I don't know!" he wailed, flinging his head to the side in a vain attempt to avoid the bit. "We get our orders from an encrypted flip phone with a voicemail! It comes in the mail with no return address! It self-destructs once the message is played!"

"Tsk. Tsk. Not good enough," Knock Out crooned, allowing his bit to kiss the human's cheek. The thing screamed, tears mixing with the blood on its cheeks. "Give me something I can work with…and I may let you live." A realization lit his optics then, and Knock Out changed tactics. "Why were you in San Jose?"

"To off a former member!" the man wailed, struggling frantically under Knock Out's drill. The Decepticon pressed his palm downwards, holding the squirming human still, its head and shoulders still visible between his index and middle digits. Deep furrows from his talons gouged the soil as he leaned down closer.

"Why? One would think you would need as many recruits as possible after what your _leader_ did to you," Knock Out replied. His optics narrowed with doubt.

"She fucking squealed. She got what she deserved. That explosion earlier? Yeah! That was us. She's probably in a million pieces about now! Just like you'll be when MECH 1 gets his hands on you!" the man raged and then froze, his eyes reading the comprehension that brightened the mech's optics to a feverish glow. Realization washed across his face. He had said too much.

"So, he IS alive?" Knock Out mused almost to himself. "Your second-in-command did escape Silas's rampage. How extraordinarily interesting." Knock Out's processor raced as he tried to analyze all the pieces of the puzzle—all the things he knew, all the pieces that were missing, and all the parts that just didn't seem right. He wasn't liking the conclusion that was developing. If MECH 1 was indeed alive, that would explain why he hadn't found any personnel files on the command back at the destroyed base. But why had he found some and not all? Understanding dawned on him. It had been a plant. The new MECH leader had wanted someone to find those files! It seemed to Knock Out that the files had been left intentionally, whether for Cybertronians to find or the human government. It finally made sense. No wonder it had been so easy to find all the deviants that had abandoned ship when Silas turned rampant. No wonder he had met little to no resistance from the terrorist group when he began hunting them one-by-one. He would bet his finest highgrade fuel cell that MECH 1 had planned for this happen—had wanted him or other Cybertronians bent on vengeance to find those files and then proceed to clean house for him. The peons he'd been hunting never had any true information to offer up until now anyway. He'd been doing MECH 1's dirty work over the last lunar cycle and not even realized it! He glanced down again, freezing the human with his stare. So why find this human then? Why orchestrate events so that he'd find these two at the same time they were terminating one their own? Unless…. he was being used again.

He stopped the drill bit and returned to his functioning hand. "Who was this individual you were sent to terminate?" he asked softly, leaning down close.

The man licked his lips nervously before replying, "Don't matter now. She's dead! Her and the whole family!"

Knock Out was tiring of the human's obstinacy. Could this insect give him a straight answer just once!? In a motion as smooth as it was fast, Knock Out dislocated the MECH agent's right shoulder and then the left. The human's screaming reached an entirely new pitch, one that felt like it would crack his windshield had it not been reinforced glass.

"Let me make myself exquisitely clear here? Hmmm?" he rumbled threateningly. "I can dissect you into pieces and put you back together in more ways than you have bones in your body! And YOU will be alive and conscious for every single parsec of it if you don't answer my questions!" He paused and then added darkly, "You think you are going to walk away from this? Your Master set you up as surely as you executed your mission tonight. So, you can continue to stand by your little club, knowing they left you high and dry OR…" Knock Out smirked, "You can give me something to work with and I'll make your death a little less…unpleasant."

That got the squishy's attention. He stared blankly for a moment, sweat and river water beading on his forehead. He looked sickly; a green pallor overshadowing his pudgy features. Blood still dribbled down his cheek from where Knock Out's drill had kissed him softly. Comprehension finally lit his muddy brown eyes only for the light to subdue and then wink out seconds later, as the full understanding of his circumstances hit home. He wasn't walking away from this. No one was coming to their aide. He wasn't going to collect that nice, fat paycheck after all.

"Fine," the human said through clenched teeth. "Her name was Dr. Terra Evans and she was our lead Research and Development scientist before Silas went ape-shit. She worked under a front company, MILTECH Industries, as their lead mechanical engineer. Silas and MECH 1 would send her the data collected from you… you machines and she would study it to see how to make it compatible with our technology," the man ground out. Every word was hissed with effort. For Christ's sake his shoulders were screaming.

Knock Out mulled this knew information over. It was the first good tidbit he'd received. Terra Evans. At some point she had had a direct link with the MECH masterminds. His processor ran a quick Internet search for the name. His results turned up nothing. Her information appeared to be sanitized. An indication the human had spoken the truth. Well, at least now he knew the explosion had been the sight of her home. He would have to go there and see if anything could be gleaned from the aftermath. Thumb drives. Hard drives. Papers. Surely something must have survived the explosion that could help him find MECH-1.

His optics returned to the human underneath his hand. The creature had finally succumbed to the pain and passed out. He smirked. No matter. He had all the information he needed anyway. Using his index and thumb, he plucked the human up by the front of its clothing and walked back towards the aqueduct. Holding the creature firmly, he dunked it into the cold rushing water.

With a gasp and a shout, the man came to, sputtering and kicking wildly. Its arms dangled in a haphazard fashion from the dislocation.

"Wha-? Fucking A!" it shouted. Its eyes raised up to Knock Out's face, the look beseeching. "I told you what you wanted to know! Now lemme go! I promise! I won't say anything!" he implored, one final attempt to plead for his life.

"I'm afraid you've outlived your usefulness to me," Knock Out replied, cocking an optic ridge menacingly. "But I believe in giving my foes a fighting chance. It's more than you ever gave Breakdown," he growled darkly.

He dropped the human then, watching casually as it hit the dirt and rolled several times from the impact.

"You have 5 seconds."

"But-!"

"FIVE!...FOUR!..."

The human scrambled to his feet and attempted to run off back in the direction of the city. How pathetic. Unfolding his side panel, Knock Out withdrew his energy staff. With a soft _click _it expanded, the forked end glowing ominously under the new moon night. He admired the weapon for a couple seconds more before shrugging his shoulder wheels and hurling it down the darkened road. A soft _thunk_ reached his audios followed by a soft brightening charge where the staff lay embedded in the small human body. Blue fingers of electricity arced from the staff to its victim, the only sign of life left on the road.

He yanked the weapon free from the ground, the human body still attached to its forked end. He grimaced in disgust, before taking the staff and giving it a hard flick of the wrist. The body sailed free and landed in the aqueduct with a resounding splash, but the sound was lost amidst the roar of a 12-cylinder Aston Martin engine.


	5. Chapter 4: On the Run

**A/N: Dude. It's hard as hell moving from one side of this country to the other with two dogs, two horses, and a 38' trailer. Glad that's behind me. Now I might actually be able to write again. Fortunately, I already had this chapter written prior to the move; I just couldn't post it. So here be it. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 4: On the Run**

The police station was abuzz with chatter, telephones ringing, keys jingling, and papers shuffling. A dozen or so people bustled from one side to the other, some in police uniforms, others in plain clothes. Terra sat in the midst of it all completely numb. One tiny corner of her mind screamed and wailed at what was happening, but at the same time that tiny fragment felt as if it were a thousand miles away. Everything felt drab, as if all the color had been leeched away. In a way it actually had. In an instant her life and her family were gone. There would be no more morning scuffles at the breakfast table. There would be no more morning kisses and hugs. She would no longer be able to straighten Mark's tie for him. She could no longer touch the tousled, mousy hair of her youngest child or see the mischievous grin of his elder brother.

Paramedics at the scene had rushed to her treatment despite being several hundred feet away from the initial blast. She had been treated for shock, but since her vitals were steady and there appeared no immediate threat to her health, they moved on to tend to other more severe patients. The police had found her on the back of the ambulance with a trauma blanket wrapped around her shoulders; they then gently but firmly removed her from the scene.

Fast forward to the present where officers were gently trying to get a statement from as many witnesses as they could. But Terra had not spoken one word. She had refused food and drink. Honestly, she just stared blankly at anyone that attempted to ask a question. Some officers were deliberating taking her to the hospital for admittance; after all, it had been her family that had been lost in the blast.

As whispers and speculations began to flow amongst the crowd as to what happened, Terra felt herself stir minutely. Gas explosion. Tragedy. Utility company will definitely want to settle. Gas explosion….gas explosion…_gas explosion._ Her consciousness continually recoiled at those two words. As they were repeated over and over amongst the bustling members of the local precinct, each whisper brought her closer and closer to a sinking realization: it was not what everyone seemed to believe.

* * *

"Sir."

"Yes? What is it, Corporal?"

"Operation: San Jose was a partial success."

"Explain."

"Dr. Evans family was confirmed killed in the blast, as expected; however, preliminary reports indicate the doctor herself lived."

"I see. And our operatives?"

"Confirmed kills, sir."

"Excellent. Am I correct to surmise that the non-biological entity that has been…_assisting_ us with our organizational restructuring was the one to finish them?"

"Yes sir. You are correct, sir. It has been rather efficient letting the enemy deal with all our…deserters," the Corporal added while making notes on a datapad.

The senior officer gave a noncommittal grunt. "See to it that Dr. Evans is taken of, Corporal. And if we are hearing reports of her survival, our _friend_ most certainly is too. Ensure that your crew is properly outfitted to deal with him as well. I despise loose ends."

"Yes, sir. Right away sir."

* * *

Terra had been observing a large, black fly crawling across one of the glass panes for the last half hour. Although her eyes followed the meandering path of the tiny insect, her thoughts did not.

_This isn't right. None of this is right,_ she thought to herself. She had slowly mustered her senses as the initial shock wore off. Slowly, ever so slowly her logical, thinking side was picking up the broken pieces and attempting to fit them together. _Gas explosion. It doesn't seem plausible._ _Not to me. It's too neat._ _And why haven't the feds shown up yet? As a protected witness they should have been here immediately. No. Something is wrong. Something is not right and this isn't over._

Terra glanced across the precinct again. Her green eyes narrowed as she once again surveyed the busy office space only this time, she shoved her grief to a small corner of her mind and focused. Nothing had truly changed. Telephones were still ringing incessantly. Papers were being shuffled and re-shuffled. Officers, uniformed and not, scurried to and fro. The knot in her stomach tightened as she observed the seemingly mundane scene. The tiny voice began to whisper once more. _It's no longer safe here. The feds should have come by now. You need to leave. You need to move!_

She glanced around her immediate vicinity. No one seemed to be paying attention to the grieving widow. Along the far wall, a water cooler stood next to a long coat rack. At the end of the rack a large red "Exit" sign denoted a side door. Terra pursed her lips and made her decision.

She slowly rose from her seat and walked to the water cooler. Her calm stride and neutral eyes belied the thundering beat of her heart. Reaching for a Styrofoam cup, she filled it with the cool, clear liquid and took a sip, turning around as she did so. Her eyes once again passed over the precinct, watching to see if anyone took notice of her movements. The desk sergeant that had been closest to her glanced her way. She gently raised the cup in his direction and then took a sip, still meeting his eye over the rim of the cup. He nodded once before turning his full attention back to the seemingly irate caller on the other end of his telephone line. It was now or never.

Terra swirled around and dropped the empty cup in the waste basket and then grabbed a navy coat from one of the pegs. She threw the jacket on and set a determined pace, trying with all her might to look as if she were an officer with a place to be. Surprisingly it worked. No one batted an eye as she strode to the side exit door. With one final nervous glance around, she pushed the bar and walked outside into a large parking lot filled mainly with city police vehicles. She picked up her pace and hurriedly exited the lot, ducking down the first alley she came to. She dumped the jacket on top of a trash can and quickly picked up a jog.

Now that she was out in the open, Terra had no idea what to do. _I need distance. I need space and distance_. She paused long enough to check her wallet. She still had a couple hundred dollars in cash and her bank card. She quickly devised a plan. Anyone in an official capacity looking for her would see her bank card transactions immediately. She needed more than two-hundred dollars' worth of cash if she were even going to have a chance of evading anyone for long. She opened her phone's browser and searched for the closest ATM to her location. ATMs had cameras. She would have to grab as much as cash as she could and then split the scene quick.

Less than a block away she maxed her daily amount. That step complete, she turned several blocks before hailing a taxi.

"Where to Miss?" the driver asked amicably as she slammed the door closed.

"As far as this will take me," Terra replied, slapping two-hundred dollars into the cabbie's hand. The driver stared at the money for a brief moment, before shrugging his shoulders and positioning the car into the flow of traffic.

At that point Terra sighed, allowing herself to feel a small measure of relief. She closed her eyes and let her forehead rest on the cold glass pane of the rear, side window. Her family was gone and they were never coming back. An overwhelming wave of guilt assaulted her. They were dead because of her. It was all her fault. Despite the government assurances of safety, her family was dead and she would have been too. She knew, she _knew_ beyond a shadow of a doubt that MECH was somehow tied to this and they had planned on eliminating her. But to take her family as well? It left her feeling bereft and oh so very cold. A solitary tear slipped from the corner of her eye to drip forlornly on the door panel.

It was at that point Dr. Terra Evans, mechanical engineer, came to a turning point. The government had failed her just as she had failed her family. Although nothing could bring them back, she was determined to make MECH pay. She didn't know how or even where to start, but she would find a way. She had to.

* * *

_A few hours earlier…_

Knock Out leisurely cruised down the street, taking his time and observing his surroundings with a casual air. Now that he had a lead on a potential, important target he felt that things were finally going somewhere. Sure, knocking off all the small fry had been quite satisfying. There was a certain measure of gratification achieved when the humans he had cornered screamed and begged for mercy, for forgiveness, had begged for their _lives_. However, at the same time, a growing frustration had permeated his fuel lines. None of these rabble had been directly responsible for Breakdown's capture and experimentation. Pawns were excellent cannon fodder, but what he truly desired was the eradication of the organization.

Silas was no more. Airachnid had made sure of that. And although his decision to experiment on the human-cybernetic monstrosity had ended with…less than desirable consequences, he knew that the ideals Silas perpetuated were still very much alive. He hadn't cut the head off a snake; they had in fact, cut the head off a Hydra. The only way to finish this was to kill the beast. He would ensure that every human involved with MECH would pay with their life. That was the only way Knock Out felt he could truly redeem himself for what happened to Breakdown. The more human blood that flowed, the better he felt.

And now, he had a name on the head researcher that had spearheaded Silas's projects. He had always suspected that the low-lying filth he had been hunting the past few lunar cycles had been throw-aways…deserters and turn-coats that had joined the ranks more for pay than truly backing MECH's ideals. Last night's interrogation confirmed his suspicions. He had also always suspected that the personnel files had been left or planted on purpose; what he hadn't expected was their tracking markers still being active. It made his MECH-hunting hobby ridiculously easy. Well, if he was going to be used, he'd best not disappoint. He could turn the tables later when he had more reliable information.

But this Dr. Evans…she was the first real lead he had; was she truly offline? Knock Out decided to find out for himself. After all, one should always trust but verify. He tuned his scanners to the local police, fire, and EMS frequencies and began to sift through the incessant ruckus. The radio frequencies were abuzz with the recent catastrophic residential explosion. Perhaps he could investigate the scene of the mishap and see what he could unearth there?

Knock Out meandered his way back to the residential area where the explosion had occurred. Naturally, the human protection forces had cordoned off a significant part of the area, but he could at least park on a side street nearby and eavesdrop on the radio chatter. And so, he did with nary a human aware of just how dangerous the high-powered, sleek red sports car truly was.

_"…gas company has been notified…"_

_"Roger. Unit 546, what's your status?"_

_"Dispatch, this is 546. One confirmed survivor of 2657 Sheridan Lane. We'll be enroute to the station in 5 mikes."_

_"…staging witnesses at the precinct…" _

Knock Out confirmed the address as the house that had sustained the blast. A survivor, eh? He recalled the human operative saying Evans and her entire family had been targeted. Who survived then? He then decided to follow the police car, Unit 546, and ascertain for himself.

_"Unit 546 enroute."_

_"Copy that, 546. Enroute. Time is 2247." _

Perfect. Knock Out quickly determined the location of the closest police precinct before pulling into the street. Locating the police cruiser didn't take much either as he honed in on its radio frequency and followed from an unseen distance. The drive wasn't long, maybe 15 minutes tops when the cruiser pulled into the lot of a low, squat single-story building that was the local precinct. He parked on the far street and waited patiently for the occupants of the vehicle to exit and enter the structure. First, the officer exited. He then reached back and opened the rear door to reveal a petite, blonde female human, in her mid-thirties, if his scans could be trusted at this distance. Given what Knock Out already knew and the information he had recently acquired, the survivor of the "gas explosion" had to be Dr. Terra Evans herself! He felt his circuits spark with anticipation.

This was going to be juicy.


	6. Chapter 5: Close Encounters

**A/N: Greetings and sorry for my long delay. Extra long chapter to make up for it. I had writer's block for the longest time and over the last few weeks, this came together literally one paragraph a night at a time. Painful. Hope things are coherent enough. Also, I pulled some tiny canon details over from the comic arc to help facilitate flow and character rationale. Hope you guys like and as always, please drop a review if you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Chapter 5: Close Encounters**

After the woman and her escort disappeared inside the building, Knock Out knew that he would be in for a bit of a wait; however, that did not mean he would be sitting idly by watching his rubber rot. Instead, he busied himself by hacking into the precinct's closed-circuit security system. Now that he had acquired a target of importance, he detested letting the human woman out of his sight.

Now. Just a little longer…_there._ He was in. The Decepticon quickly panned through each camera, trying to locate his quarry. Within in moments he found her once more, sitting beside a desk, her head resting in her hands. Now the only thing left to do was to figure out how to take her from under all the other prying eyes.

Fortunately for Knock Out, Lady Luck was certainly smiling upon him today.

Break

The Decepticon couldn't believe it when, after a few hours of surveillance, the human woman stood up and just walked out of the building. She just slagging left. Knock Out suspected, given the state of recent affairs that had _just _occurred at the Evans' residence, that the police weren't finished with the she-human, but she was more than finished with them.

Being a medic was an extremely valuable profession in more ways than just patching up soldiers and sending them back into the fray. Eons of warfare had honed his practical skills to near perfection. Being a _Decepticon_ medic had honed his skills in other areas, namely the ability to read mechs beyond their physical ailments. And humans? Well, humans read like a picture book compared to mechs. Emotions played all across their fleshy facial features. Intentions could be read like code in the muscle tension that stretched across their frames. Knock Out reflected back on his encounter with June Darby, the she-human that had attempted to negotiate her and Agent Fowler's freedom in exchange for the location of the Predacon bone. That particular fleshy had had ball-bearings trying to pull one over on him, but in the end her body language had betrayed her and it was a quick deduction to determine the bone's actual location.

Just as June Darby's intentions were betrayed by an errant look, so too now were Terra Evans'. Knock Out took note of the female's shifty eyes and her nervous glances to and fro. She was going to bolt and he'd be there when she stopped running.

Break

It was roughly an hour later that Terra exited the cab. As she stepped out, she saw that the cabbie had stopped in a small, Podunk town. Two paint-chipped and stain-spattered motels dominated the main strip into town. Her cab had stopped at one of them. One gas station, a couple questionable looking eateries, a post office and one traffic signal—it was a far cry from the Bay area.

She shut the door to the cab and slapped the roof, stepping away as the aged, yellow Crown Vic pulled back onto the road and accelerated back from whence it came. Terra's stomach chose that moment to give a protesting gurgle. She placed a hand over her belly and turned to one of the restaurants, a small taco stand.

As she turned to walk across the pothole-studded lot, a loud rumbling growl drew her attention to the gas station down the street. A shiny, immaculate red pearl painted sports car had just turned into the lot and had stopped in front of the pumps. She raised a quizzical eyebrow, her thoughts idly wondering why such a nice car would stop in a dumpy, one horse town such as this. She gave a mental shrug and turned back to the greasy-smelling taco stand. Far be it from her to judge a person on where they got their gasoline from. Hell, at least they owned a car. She didn't even have that any more. Another rumbling growl, this time from her stomach.

Four tacos and a horchata later, Terra had checked into the motel and had finally allowed herself to relax just a fraction. The water at the motel was warm at best and tepid at worst, but it felt pleasant to wash the last 36 hours of grime from her hair and skin. Reluctantly, she redressed into her clothing and laid down upon the starchy-stiff bedspread; however, rest was hard to come by. Paranoia clouded her mind like an inky fog. She knew that the police would be looking for her; it was only a matter of time. And MECH? They would be coming for her too. If they knew she survived (and she would bet money they did) the first place MECH would try again would be while she was in police custody. She needed anonymity. No one had to know where she was. Hell, she didn't even know where she was. And perhaps that was a start. Her eyelids finally began to droop and Terra succumbed to her exhaustion, sleeping fitfully.

Several hours later, a resounding _bang_! startled Terra from her sleep. She had just enough time to bolt upright before the door to her modest motel room exploded inward in a shower of wood pieces and splinters. She cried out in surprise and flung the blankets off, rolling to the far side of the bed. Two men in black fatigues and ski masks charged into the room. The first held a tactical rifle. As soon as he crossed the threshold he swiveled and trained it on her. She instinctively froze, eyes wide in horror as a bright crimson dot settled over her chest. The second man rounded the bed and grabbed her just above the elbow, wrenching down and outward harshly. Neither one said a word.

Terra yelped in pain but a heavy gloved hand smacked across her mouth, silencing her from making any further noise. She kicked, twisted, and squirmed but her protests were useless. The two men drug her out of the room, all but carrying her slight frame towards a black SUV parked a short distance away. Her eyes widened at the sight of it. She had seen this style of vehicle before…before she had betrayed MECH to the US government. Terra redoubled her struggles, fear and anger fueling her efforts. This wasn't how she was going to leave this world! No, absolutely not! But despite her efforts, the masked men had the advantage. While her captor wrestled to get her into the vehicle, his partner slipped around to the vehicle's rear. With a deft movement he had flipped the rifle's butt stock forward and landed a solid hit to Terra's temple. The woman instantly slouched, a thin tendril of blood snaking down her hairline to the collar of her shirt before it was arrested by the cotton fabric. Without further issue, the two men handcuffed her wrists and tossed her limp body into the backseat of the vehicle.

Break

Knock Out casually watched from a distance as the black SUV exited the motel parking lot and pulled onto the two-lane highway. The unfolding of events couldn't have happened in a more fortuitous way if he had planned them himself. Not only would he be able to dispose of two more MECH agents, but they had caught the errant doctor for him as well. Plus, if these two lug heads were anything like their former counterparts he had dealt with previously, this escapade would be fairly cut and dry.

His headlights blazed to life and rubber squealed loudly as he slid onto the highway, following the black SUV at good distance. He would wait until the town was out of sight. Less chance of witnesses. Although given the remoteness of this hamlet, he sincerely doubted there would be witnesses to begin with. Still, he had avoided Autobot detection and human interference this long, why ruin his perfect winning streak?

The watery orange street lamps of the town quickly faded and the enveloping darkness of a desert night took their place. There was no moon tonight. Inky black darkness shrouded the landscape. Once clear of the town Knock Out flicked his headlamps off and sped up to catch the SUV. His engine roared as the speedometer slowly climbed. Ah, yes! The thrill of the chase. Such exhilaration! A quick swerve into a quarter panel, dispose of the two MECH goons, secure the she-human and all would be well by night's end. At least, that's what he planned, but the best laid plans of 'bots and men often go awry, and so was the case for Knock Out tonight.

The tail lights of the SUV were a beacon as the red Aston devoured the highway between them. The Decepticon's front bumper nearly kissed the rear before Knock Out neatly served to the right and began to draw even with his prize. He chuckled to himself, absolutely thrilled with how easy everything had been thus far when suddenly the SUV was no longer on the left side of his driver door. He promptly shot forward well beyond his target, which had stopped suddenly in the center of the deserted highway. Knock Out spun a perfect 180, several meters ahead of the black vehicle. Those slagging fleshies! How dare they try and pull a fast one on him!

Knock Out flipped his headlamps on once more, their crystalline light illuminating the scene before him. The passenger door to the SUV opened and a human stepped forth. His black clothing made him appear like a living shadow; hardly a trace of flesh was visible. The driver remained in the vehicle.

"We've been waiting for you to show up, Decepticon," the passenger said with a faint Bronx accent, "Almost didn't think you'd come." A pinprick of orange and then a smaller pinhole-sized dot—a cigarette—indicated his position.

"You know what I am," Knock Out stated flatly. It was more a statement than an exclamation of surprise. They were MECH. They probably had files on every Cybertronian here on Earth. It wasn't exactly unexpected.

"We know," the human concurred, cigarette burning slightly brighter as he took a draw, "and we know who…Decepticon Medic Knout Out."

Now that did catch him a little off guard. So, they knew _who_ he was. That tiny bit of information cramped his circuits. How did they know? How long have they known? A tiny alarm bell began tolling at the back of his processor. If they knew _who _he was, what else did they know about him? He growled softly to himself and silenced that tiny, ringing alarm. No matter. He'd get his answers while peeling that fleshling's skin off its frame. He rocked back on his rear wheels, preparing to lunge into his transformation sequence. Let them discover just how capable a Decepticon he could be; but then as Knock Out prepared to transform and end this uncomfortable confrontation, the next words out of the squishie's mouth nearly cost him his spark.

"And now that you're here, we'll be sure your chassis will be put to better use than your pal Breakdown's."

Lunging just as the fleshling spoke, the very breath that carried Breakdown's name froze his fuel lines with a cold, dead horror. _How in the name of the Allspark…?_ He hesitated for the briefest of moments. Just then the driver exited, shouldering a large, black rifle and firing two shots in quick succession. Two shells emitting a ghostly green light streaked across the asphalt towards the red Decepticon.

Knock Out, upon hearing the rifle's report, quickly regained his senses and flung himself to the right embankment, completing his transformation to robot form in a cloud of dust, grit, and sand. He landed heavily on his right shoulder strut, and he watched with wide, red optics as the green projectiles streaked past his chest plates with only centimeters to spare. Primus! That had been close!

But he didn't have time to gloat as another barrage of green tracers lanced his direction. Knock Out rolled viciously down the embankment, cringing inwardly as the gravel and rocks scratched his immaculate paint finish. Dammit all to the smelting pits! Now those MECH meatheads were definitely in for it! At the bottom he sprang to his pedes and sprinted to a small cluster of boulders. He slid behind them as another volley of rounds ricocheted off the boulder's front face. One of the rounds latched onto the craggy surface. A thin, spidery web of green electricity arced across the surface before finally fizzing out like a spent firecracker.

Immobilizer rounds. The very same ammunition that had been used on Breakdown. Scrap. And here he was pinned down behind some rocks and nary a distance weapon to his name. Pinned in the desert, the mostly wide-open, barely-any-cover desert. Primus slag it all to the Pit. This was _not _how he anticipated the night to play out.

A laugh, light and mocking, floated down from the roadway. "Give it up pretty 'bot! We's got you pinned! You have nowhere to go but on the back of our lowboy! Oh! And speaking of which, reinforcements will be here shortly, so's make it easy on yourself and come along quietly!"

_I'd rather be shot with Megatron's fusion cannon than submit to you, pathetic bloodbags,"_ Knock Out growled to himself. But Megatron wasn't here, he still didn't have distance weapons (using his alt-mode rear quarter panel lasers would require a frontal assault—an action that was currently just as sensible as suicide), and the prospect of fleeing, while probably his best option, wasn't exactly an ironclad guarantee of escape. Knock Out vented in frustration. What had begun as an idealistic human scavenger hunt had now reversed course and had the makings of becoming an alien sci-fi experiment with him ironically being the guest of honor. Another barrage of immobilizer rounds peppered the nest of boulders. Small rock chips _tinked _off his armor in a mocking melody. He shuttered his optics and placed his helm in one hand, two long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. This was it. It would seem his luck had officially run out at the worst possible moment.

Break

The jarring, swerving motion of the vehicle coupled with the screech of protesting rubber woke Terra from her impromptu bout of unconsciousness. Her head ached something fierce and she could vaguely feel the flakes of dried blood crinkling against her skin as she rolled her head sideways to get a better view of her surroundings.

The dark interior of a large SUV slowly came into focus. She tried to roll a bit more. Fortunately, her arms had been cuffed to her front and not behind her back, a product of her hasty capture. She propped herself up into a sitting position and glanced around the darkened windows. The driver's side door had been left open and neither of her black-clad kidnappers were in the vehicle. The sharp report of a rifle broke the night. The muzzle flash drew her eyes to a point just a few feet away from the vehicle's nose. Her heart began racing as her mind quickly attempted to piece together the scene unfolding before her. Another two shots, the muzzle of the rifle rotating to follow some unseen target.

_What in the hell would they be shooting out here? Had the police been able to find her?_

Terra adjusted her position to try and get a better view. She saw the rifleman just off the driver's side nose. Another indistinct movement to the rifleman's right. _That has to be the other guy_, she thought to herself. Suddenly, she heard a sound she had not heard since before going into witness protection—the unmistakable sound of a transformation sequence. She whipped her head around, straining to see the source of that sound; however, the darkness was too thick and the only indication she had that the transformer was still in the area were the rifle shots erupting close to the SUV's front bumper and thundering footsteps moving away from her vehicle.

_A Transformer here?! But why? _Her thoughts inevitably touched on several memories of the last alien she had seen. Videos, sound bytes, and data sheets flashed across her mind like pictures on a film reel. But the sound and the images that seared across her memory with the sharpest clarity were those that showed a drill bit descending into the optic array and angry cries of defiance and pain. She shuddered involuntarily. She had done her part, she rationalized weakly. She had reported the illicit activities to the authorities. And look where it had gotten her. A ruined life, a murdered family, and a struggle to escape with her life at this present time. She couldn't help the alien then, and she couldn't help now. The best course of action was to help herself and get the hell out of here.

At this point Terra realized that if there were ever an opportunity to escape, now would be it. The bombing, MECH's return into her life, the Transformer that had mysteriously appeared—all of that could wait until she was safe again. But where in the hell would "safe" be?

She shoved the unpleasant thoughts and memories to the side and then she slid to the far right of the seat. She tentatively actuated the door handle. With a small click, the door opened. She froze, waiting for the inevitable moment that one of the kidnappers would catch her in the act. But no masked man came and the rifle fire still pierced the desert night intermittently. She slowly slipped from the backseat and then froze again as voices floated on the air.

"We've got him pinned."

"He'll make a run for it, you know dat."

"He ain't getting' away." The sound of a weapon cocking followed. "I'll keep him occupied. You try and flank him. He ain't got ranged weapons. You should have no problem."

"All right. Let's do this."

At the sound of footsteps, she crouched, waiting for the cry of discovery that would end her bid at escape before it even truly began; however, none came and the sound of footsteps quickly receded. She sighed. Now or never. She drew in one more breath and then crept away from the vehicle. As she skittered across the roadway, some sixth sense must have triggered the rifleman. She had almost made it to the far side of the berm when his shout alerted her to discovery.

"Hey! Get back here you little tramp!"

She bolted.

Break

His proximity scanner _blipped_ a warning. Fragging fantastic. The fleshies had split up. Well, it was always harder to hit a moving target. The second fleshy was approximately half way to him. Frag this. Better to escape with your paint intact than to stay and fight when you clearly held the short end of the energon straw. Now or never. Just as he began his leap to transform into his alt mode and peel away, his audio receptors barely heard one of the fleshy's shout out angrily.

"Hey! Get back here you little tramp!"

But he didn't stop; the human attempting to flank him was much too close for comfort. His tires hit the dirt and his engine roared to life. Faster than any earthly Aston Martin had a right to be, Knock Out quickly put the distance he craved between himself and the human attempting to flank him. But no shots were fired, not even hasty pot shots. Finding this odd, he checked his proximity scanner again. Much to his surprise, the fleshy that had been so close to pulling his number had turned tail and was quickly moving back in the direction from whence he came. Expanding his scan, Knock Out soon realized that the rifleman had his hands full attempting to recapture their prisoner and the flanker had abandoned his hunt in favor of aiding his partner.

Now Knock Out was many things—Decepticon medic, Connoisseur of fine human automobiles, interim scientist-but perhaps the biggest appellation of all to his credit was that Knock Out was an opportunist. He hadn't survived the war on Cybertron for this long on kindness, morality, honor or any other Autobot-espoused ideal. No, he had gotten ahead by being in the right places, at the right times. His luck may have soured a bit in the beginning, but maybe...just maybe he could still come out on top so long as he could even the odds. Upon seeing that both human MECH agents were preoccupied with trying to recapture their prisoner, Knock Out spun a curt 180-degree turn and deployed his rear quarter panel blasters. Turnabout was fair play.

He charged across the desert, the twelve-cylinder engine heralding his approach. The human turned, eyes wide open and glassy in the beams of Knock Out's head lamps. The man didn't even have time to shoulder his weapon before two powerful blasts obliterated any evidence that he physically existed. The Aston blazed onward, ashes fluttering in the vortexes left by his passing. Within seconds the red sports car had climbed the embankment and fishtailed back onto the pavement, engine growling menacingly. The remaining two humans stood frozen in his high beams, roughly 75 meters away. The gunman had one hand on a struggling Evans and the other on his rifle. It became a standoff. Knock Out revved his engine threateningly, blasters still deployed and glowing with a faint purplish-hue.

"I might be able to salvage this night yet," the agent said, almost conversationally. "I'll take care of you! Then I'll take care of _her_." He twisted the doctor's arm as he finished, receiving a grunt of pain in response.

"Awfully bold of you to make assumptions," Knock Out drawled, rocking on his wheels just a little. From this distance he couldn't fire his blasters without killing both humans and he still needed the doctor alive. She was key. She could provide him with the information needed to find MECH-1 and eradicate this human virus known as MECH once and for all. If Megatron wanted to ignore humans then so be it; however, he still owed it to Brakedown, his Conjunx Endura.

Conjunx Endurae had grown rare on Cybertron, and even rarer as the war raged across the planet's surface. However, Brakedown and Knock Out were not _Cybertronians_ by definition. They had hailed from the planet Velocitron and their bond far preceded the events that plunged Cybertron into war. When Cybertron's war finally did reach Velocitron, there was no question that where one went, so did the other. Brakedown had never quite felt comfortable on the Speed Planet, being larger and slower than most; however, he took to being a Decepticon soldier with eagerness. As for Knock Out, it was an easy transition to move from aerodynamic surgeon to Decepticon field surgeon. On the battlefield, they had made an effective and efficient team. _Had._

A tense silence ensued; the only sound being the gentle thrum of the Aston's engine. The human couldn't fire an accurate shot from this distance one-handed and Knock Out couldn't use his blasters nor transform in time without putting himself at risk of being shot. Fortunately for the combatants, neither had to wait long. Terra, quiet since the driverless red sports car had settled before them, stomped her left foot as hard as she could on the top of the boot of the agent holding her.

He yelped in pain and released his hold on her elbow, allowing the woman to sprint off into the dark. The roar of an engine alerted him to his error. He glanced up just in time to see Knock Out speeding towards him and then a blinding flash of purple light. Just as his comrade before him, nothing but ash remained. The Aston charged onward, headlights swinging to catch the fleeing doctor in their light. She cast a glance over her shoulder and kept running.

Knock Out overtook her easily. Automobile trumped human sprinting any day of the week. He transformed smoothly and in two strides caught the terrified female.

"Now where do you think you are going?" he asked, cocking an optic ridge while a smirk tugged at his lip components. She struggled instinctively, kicking the air as the giant alien held her without effort. Terra gradually stopped squirming and met Knock Out's intensive red gaze. Her breath caught as her eyes traveled over his face and helm, primal fear warring with her natural scientific curiosity. These beings were even more terrifyingly fascinating in person than over video feeds. No wonder MECH had wanted one so badly to reverse-engineer—and then that display of frightening power from in-built weaponry…My God, what had she been thinking to give MECH access to that kind of reverse-engineering? Guilt and horror assailed her conscience. Then there was her personal cost. Death by the hand of the alien seemed quite fitting, given the chain reaction of events that had led to this very moment.

"Please," she whispered, "make it quick like theirs." She averted her eyes and chose instead to focus on the ground, roughly 15-feet below her.

Knock Out chuckled, amused. "Oh, don't worry, my dear. I'm not going to kill you." At that, she looked up sharply and then he added, "Yet." Terra closed her eyes. It seemed cruelly fair. She had helped dissect, study, and nearly kill one of _them_. Perhaps it was her turn to be on the dissection table. She blanched.

The red car spoke again, disturbing her thoughts. "But first, we're leaving. I can't be having more MECH vermin showing up to this party unannounced." Before Terra could reply, the firm grip around her waist disappeared and she felt her body go weightless. In the next moment she was free-falling towards the ground. She screamed involuntarily, arms and legs grasping for a purchase that didn't exist. She landed abruptly on a semi-soft surface and the black, sleek interior of a foreign car finished puzzling around her, parts and pieces coming together with soft clicks and whirrs. The seat belt fastened a little too tightly around her body and the snap of the door locks told her she was now trapped inside the being that had only moments ago held her in hand. A small, pronged rod popped out of the glove box, tips glowing with a blue aura. It launched at her face with the speed of a striking snake. Terra snapped her head back, hitting the headrest in the process. Pain blossomed at the back of her skull just as the prod connected with her forehead.

There was pain, the prod's light, and then sweet, enveloping darkness. Oh irony, you are a cruel, cruel bitch.


	7. Chapter 6: Doctor to Doctor

**A/N: Now we get to the heart of the story where the main characters truly meet. I try my best to create realistic, believable humans that meet our favorite characters under believable circumstances. I try not to throw everything about a character in one fell swoop but it creates a very complicated balancing act of holding the readers' attention, not inundating the story with excessive details, and avoiding the terrifying spectre known as Mary-Sue. I hope I am succeeding. If you like the story so far, please drop a review. And as always, constructive criticism is deeply appreciated.**

**Chapter 6: Doctor to Doctor**

Dawn had come and gone by the time Terra awoke from unconsciousness. Sunlight warmed her skin through the front windshield and the sun's rays made her squint in discomfort as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She groaned softly, wishing desperately for some Advil.

"Well, well, well. How nice of you to finally join me," a voice purred from the radio speakers.

Her grogginess instantly dissipated at the familiar inflection. She also became very aware of the tight, near-constricting seatbelt strapped across her person. Memory of the previous night came into sharp clarity.

"You. You're one of _them,_" she said, wriggling her shoulders to determine just how much play from under the seatbelt she had (not much.) "A Transformer."

"What an astute observation!" the car replied with a heavy dose of sarcasm lacing its voice. "It's no wonder MECH wants to silence such a voice of intellect."

Terra frowned at the insult and glared at the radio deck. "You know nothing about me," she snapped, anger temporarily overriding her fear at her current situation. She heard and also _felt?_ the car chuckle.

"Fiesty," it answered back. Terra could practically feel the car smirk and it stoked her anger even more. She took a deep breath and calmed her thoughts. _Easy, Terra. Tread carefully. You don't want to anger the giant alien that you are currently trapped inside of._ She grimaced at the thought.

"What do you want?" she asked instead and then added, "I recognize you. You were the red sports car at the gas station yesterday back in that town. You were following me."

"Another fine observation," the car replied, another chuckle rippling richly through the speakers, "but you are correct. I've been following you since your detainment at the human law enforcement facility."

"But why?" Terra asked again, not entirely certain she wanted to hear the answer.

"For answers, my dear Doctor. Answers," the car said, "But first, I need to make sure we don't have any more…uninvited guests…showing up."

Terra gasped as the car drifted off the smooth pavement and onto a side road. Seeing the wheel spin and turn without the presence of a driver deeply unnerved her and the fact the car had cryptically avoided her first question didn't help ease her anxiety. "Where are we going? Where are you taking me?" she asked, green eyes glancing out the tinted side glass window.

The car didn't respond; it continued zipping down the one lane road, going at speeds far beyond her comfort zone. Terra squirmed in her seat a bit more, but the belts were unrelenting. During her research she had been told by other MECH cohorts that there were two factions of the alien machines on their planet—one which proclaimed to be just and allied with the human race and another more malignant faction that viewed humanity more or less as an inconvenience to be dealt with at the conclusion of the aliens' interstellar conflict. At the time MECH could have really cared less which alien they captured to further their endeavors, so not much effort had been directed into learning more of the conflict that had brought them to Earth. As a consequence of that thought process, not much effort had been directed at telling the two factions apart either. However, the longer her joy ride went, the more Terra suspected she wasn't exactly riding with one of the "good guys."

The silence drug on. Terra occupied her mind by observing the landscape flashing by out her window. Near as she could tell they had to be in southeastern California by now, maybe even Nevada. The terrain was brown, desolate, and completely vacant. Chaparral dotted low hills and added a touch of gray-green to the gray-brown landscapes. An abandoned windmill, rusted and decayed by time and weather, stretched a skeletal finger into the sky. She had wanted anonymity and isolation; she had it now and she was deeply regretting some of her life choices at this moment. Her anxiety only deepened when the growl of the engine geared down and the car turned from a one-lane asphalt road to a barely passible one-lane dirt road. Her only consolation was that the car was no longer hitting break-neck speeds of questionable sanity; his (its?) pace had slowed considerably given the dereliction of the roadway. The silence continued.

After about five miles a structure appeared around a bend in the roadway, its dilapidated frame hugging the base of a low-lying, rock studded hill. It was perfectly hidden from view due to the low, overlapping hills of the area. By all appearances the building had been abandoned for decades. Weather-beaten, gray slats were broken in intermittent places along the sides. The corrugated tin roof was covered in rust-red patches; some places along the roof were completely open revealing the wooden framework underneath. About 30 yards from the abandoned barn, Terra spied the remnants of a stone foundation, most likely a farmhouse. By all appearances it looked as if the alien mechanical being had brought her here in order to finish what the MECH agents had started. Out here, her disappearance would become just as mysterious as the owner of this homestead. She swallowed nervously.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the sagging barn doors and the passenger door opened on its own accord. "Open the doors," the voice commanded, silky soft and yet hard as stone. "And don't try anything funny," it added, "I'm not in the mood to play games." The seat belts released her person with a soft whisper and disappeared behind the seat.

Shakily, she stepped out of the vehicle and approached the doors. With a grunt she heaved against the aged and splintered door, the rusted wheels in the tracks screeching in protest at being asked to move after decades of dormancy. With one open she pushed against the other, producing an opening into the building wide enough to permit the red Aston entry. The car drove forward slowly, the tires crunching ever so softly on the aged dirt. Without being asked, Terra began to close the doors. The alien transformation sequence sounded behind her. A deep, primal fear began to grow in her belly. She was truly alone with this being now. Being taken by MECH was frightening in its own right; but with them, she could anticipate what they wanted to do, develop conjectures. As ghastly as MECH's treatment of her family had been, she had some idea of what they were capable of and what to expect. MECH was _human_, motivated by _human_ emotions and rationale.

But the alien? This Transformer? He terrified her. She knew not his motivations for bringing her here, nor if he knew her connections to MECH. She suspected he did. Otherwise, what other "answers" could he possibly want from a lowly lifeform such as herself? If in fact he was aware of just how deep her dealings with the shadow organization went, she realized with cold clarity, that no Earthly government or law would prevent this being from doing to her what he had done to those two agents last night…or worse. And yet, as terrifying as that prospect was, a sliver of her conscience was at peace with it. Her research for MECH had brought her to this flash point; her deductions had been at the expense of an alien held hostage and tortured. Perhaps this one was out to avenge the other. And if so, Terra hoped with all her soul he would succeed, even if it cost her life as well, for she would rather die at the hands of an alien intelligence seeking revenge, than be another murder to an illicit military organization that would add her death to the growing number of cover-ups (her family included) that blossomed in its shadow unchecked. Obviously, her government had failed miserably at stopping MECH; perhaps the aliens would succeed where she and her own people had not. And it was that tiny, miniscule shred of hope that allowed Terra Evans to accept her death, regardless of how horrible it may be; however, acceptance didn't mean that she still didn't fear it. She turned very slowly to face the source of the shadow she found herself standing within.

Knock Out stared down at the object of so much attention over the last 48 hours. His arms were crossed over his chassis, optics hooded and contemplative. "First things, first," he finally said. "Lay down on that table." He pointed a sharp digit at a filthy, dust covered work counter that had been pushed against the barn.

Terra stared incredulously. First at him, then at the table. "Why?" She asked, doubt and apprehension heavy in her voice.

"Because I said so, that's why," Knock Out snapped. "So, do it now or I'll do it for you!" He leaned down and glowered at the human.

Terra nodded her head hastily, taking a few steps back and away from the heated red optics currently boring into her person. She turned and walked over to the work table, if only to escape that scathing, red glare. She hopped up on the table's surface.

Knock Out gave a curt nod of approval and then stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Now as I said earlier, I want answers, but before we get started, I need to ensure we aren't going to be disturbed. To do that I need to first remove the transmitter embedded in your flesh." He smirked a little, transforming his right servo into a wicked-looking drill. He cocked an optic ridge in Terra's direction. He watched the human pale, but whether from his words or his drill display he was gleefully undecided.

Terra gaped. "Transmitter!? Impossible! The feds removed it when I entered witness protection."

"Ha," Knock Out scoffed. "Some doctor you are. How else do you think those agents found you?" He gave Terra a smirk.

She continued to gawk at him. "I am not _that_ kind of doctor! I am a Doctor of Mechanical Engineering!"

"Well, that just makes it even more apparent how tragically uneducated you are," he replied while eyeing the reflective spirals that twisted along the shaft of his drill.

"But mechanical engineering doesn't mean I…"

"Enough! I'm not here to argue with you. I'm here to interrogate you! And then perhaps kill you," he stepped closer, eyes glowering, "Perhaps both," he growled. He transformed the drill back into a hand and brandished the sharpened fingertips before her.

Although fear had clouded her eyes not moments before, something else slowly took its place. Knock Out had seen fear in the eyes of many humans. He had been its source and terminus on many occasions. But now? He didn't know what he was seeing. But it most certainly wasn't fear. Not anymore. She stared back and met his optics, her green eyes hard like jade. "You don't have to threaten to kill me for me to tell you whatever it is you want. I have already lost everything that was ever dear to me. If what I know will help you destroy those responsible for killing my family, then I will die peacefully by your hand," she said so softly his audio receptors had trouble detecting the words. Her eyes moved ever so slightly to refocus on his claws and then remained there.

He continued staring for just a moment, stunned by the raw acceptance of fate this woman displayed. But it was _just_ a moment. Growling softly to himself, he shoved the unfamiliar feelings aside. He had a job to do.

He shrugged, optics becoming unreadable. "All right. Then so be it." He slammed the back of his hand against the female, knocking the breath from her lungs and causing her to fall sideways along the table's rough surface. Using the same hand, he pinned her down, placing two digits against her back. This procedure was not going to be gentle. Using his left hand, he lowered a razor-sharp index tip to her upper back and delicately tapped directly between her shoulder blades.

Terra shuddered involuntarily. She had just enough time to catch her breath for a moment, only to lose it once more in a piercing shriek as Knock Out's sharpened digit sliced a bloody incision down her spine.


	8. Chapter 7: The Devil's Deal

**A/N: The conclusion to Terra and Knock Out's introduction. Talking exposition is extremely difficult to write. One has to move the story forward, often from two or more points-of-view without losing the reader in the conversations. It's a bit like juggling while walking a tight rope in the middle of a dodge ball tournament. I hope I have delivered a satisfactory exposition without boring you. If you like what you read, please drop a review/comment. Until next time.**

**Chapter 7: The Devil's Deal**

Unconsciousness was such a fickle state of being. Great pain could summon it like a rooster's crow at dawn and yet conversely, pain could call a being back to reality, not unlike a yodel that beckons the wayward herd home. Pain had sent her tumbling into the dark throws of oblivion and now it was pain that incessantly nagged her back into the land of the living.

Terra opened her eyes and groaned as deep, powerful throbs pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She tried to sit up but that only angered the throbs and sent more spikes of sensation down her back and through her limbs. She slumped back onto the hard surface she lay against, a long exhale escaping between her lips.

"You're awake. _Finally_."

Terra turned her head to see her large, alien captor lounging against one of the central support posts of the barn. She suddenly recalled _why_ her back ached so fiercely. "What did you do to me?" she croaked, throat dry from screaming and her long, impromptu sleep.

"I told you my dear, that I was going to remove your transmitter," the red car-turned-mech replied. "And I always make good on my promises," he finished with a smirk. To prove his point, he stepped over to her table top, the ground trembling beneath his weight. He pointed a slender clawed digit at the work bench's surface, not more than 18 centimeters from her head.

Terra cringed instinctively as the metal fingertip _clinked_ the surface once then withdrew, but her eyes followed the movement to where he pointed. Again, she pushed herself up and this time successfully drew herself into a seated position. Ignoring the screaming pain lancing down her back, she reached over and plucked a metallic square chip off the table. It wasn't very large, perhaps a little more than the size of a thumbnail. Delicate and minuscule wire filigree crisscrossed the surface. It was unlike any transmitter she had ever seen. Perhaps even more amazing to her was how a being that _large_ could find and then remove an item so microscopic by comparison.

"It was quite cleverly hidden in your musculature," his voice spoke again, disturbing her study. Terra looked up, puzzlement creasing her brow; Knock Out took that as a sign to continue. "I saw evidence that your flesh had been opened twice before. I would hazard a guess that you had two transmitters at some point—the one that you claimed was removed previously and another—this one which they used to find you."

Another spasm of pain tore down her backside. It was then she realized that the shirt she had been wearing was quite literally in tatters but it had been wrapped several times around her chest and abdomen. She stared at the bandages. _Ok, Terra. You are still alive for whatever reason. _As if reading her thoughts, the alien continued.

"I couldn't have you off-lining due to fluid loss. It would be rather counterproductive at this point."

She nodded slightly than asked, "Is that how you found me too? This transmitter?"

"No. Not at first," he admitted, as he inspected his razored-fingertips. "I learned about you through previous _conversations_ with your former colleagues." He looked up at this point, optics gauging her reaction. "After one particularly fortuitous meeting, I knew I was close, but then MECH made things really easy for me when they attempted to terminate you. From there it was a matter of monitoring you humans' incessant communications chatter and then keeping out of sight."

Terra exhaled slowly. Not only had MECH been after her, but this Transformer had been too?

"So how did you know about the transmitter?"

"Ah, ah, ah," the alien sing-songed, wagging a finger in her direction. A smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth. "Not so fast. We'll do this, as you humans say, _quid pro quo_. Question for question. Now, my turn." The smirk grew wider. "What was your dealings in MECH?" He watched the human's features carefully, as he asked his question. Although she was being rather compliant, Knock Out didn't see a point in driving directly to his objective. It would only spook the human. No, for this instance he thought it best to build upon her fragile complacency—draw out as much information as she was willing to give. If she thought that he would spare her life by being forthcoming with information, she may give him more to work with.

Terra inhaled deeply. It wasn't lost on her that her position was still precarious. She still had no idea what this Transformer's motives were. She would need to be very particular with her answers. She had no idea how much he knew about her or her past. One thing was clear: she was still alive, which meant she still held something the Transformer wanted. This was a dangerous game between them—a game of cat and mouse. And it was purely intellectual.

"I was…a researcher. It was my job to analyze figures and mathematics, to find limitations and variances," she answered carefully. She didn't dare make mention that the source of her data had been one _them._

"I see," the mech replied.

Once again, his optics were unreadable. Terra hated it. How could something with such similar features as herself be so…so…_alien!_

"Your turn," he continued, "Ask away, little she-human." And then the smirk returned.

"Ok…well..uh…the transmitter then."

The smirk widened just a fraction and a glint of savvy flashed in the blood-colored optics. "The transmitter that I removed is an ultra-high frequency emitter with an off-set frequency," Knock Out explained. "I began to suspect you had one after you were taken from your small-town hiding hole. I had tracked numerous MECH agents previously via their microchips, but yours…yours wasn't on the same frequency as the others." The optics narrowed. "Once I realized this, I began a frequency bandwidth search, expanding the range of known frequencies that you humans use. What I found was a UHF signal emanating from you but only once every half hour—really diabolically clever of MECH—using a different frequency and transmitter pattern to locate someone that is clearly different from the peons I had come across beforehand."

Terra slouched forward and held her head in her hands, the Cybertronian's answer ringing in her ears. It made perfect sense. It all made perfect sense. She had never escaped. Not in all that time. They had known where she was ever since she broke rank. And the dummy transmitter? That was pretty clever as well. No one would have thought each agent was fitted with two microchips. Who would have known to look? And then, the remainder of the Transformer's explanation began to compute. _A frequency and transmitter pattern… different from the peons I had come across beforehand_…Realization hit her as solidly as any punch to the gut. He'd known. He'd known exactly _who_ she was. He'd been leading along her this entire time. Her suspicions had been correct after all. He had known more than he was letting on.

"You already know who I am, don't you?" she asked softly. Green eyes looking up to meet his red ones.

"Yes, I do," he answered, "And I also know your position went a little further than just being a researcher. MECH has gone to very extreme lengths to terminate you and I want to know why."

Terra watched warily as he kneeled down to be a little closer to her level. "Now. My turn. I'm going to ask you again. What did you do for MECH? Think very carefully how you answer this time. You seemed quite willing to part with your knowledge not too long ago. I would hate to have to resort to the same measures I used on your former colleagues."

The way he said that last sentence made Terra cringe. She very much doubted that he would hate incinerating or torturing her at all; In fact, she probably wouldn't even be a blip on his conscience (if he had one, that is); however, an idea had taken root. A crazy, insane, illogical idea. But as the old saying went, desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, what did she truly have to lose? Her life? She scoffed quietly to herself. She no longer had a life left anyway and probably wouldn't for very long. It was all a matter of who would kill her first-the Transformer (likely) or MECH (also very likely!), but at this juncture she did have a choice in _whom_ could kill her.

Terra inhaled slowly and then looked up into those burning, crimson optics. "I will tell you everything you want to know and more, on one condition," she said.

"You are in no position to negotiate with me, fleshling," Knock Out growled threateningly, drawing his face within inches of hers. For a moment, Terra imagined she could feel the heat radiating from those irises. She quickly shoved her fear aside, and regained her composure.

"I know, but," she paused, gathering her thoughts, "I…want…I want to help you."

"You would be helping me if you'd just answer my slagging question!"

"No! Err….uh…what I mean is, I want to help you kill them!" she said with vehemence. Knock Out pulled back slightly in surprise, so Terra seized the opportunity to continue.

"Look. From what you have told me and what I have seen, you hold no love for MECH. Well, neither do I. They murdered my family. They destroyed any and all semblance of living a normal life. I have nothing left! And I cannot live with myself knowing that my knowledge…my research…has been corrupted to be used for nefarious purposes.

It is true that I was more than just a researcher. I was the LEAD researcher, working for a satellite company off-site from MECH headquarters. I received and analyzed all the data that MECH collected, including the data on one of your species."

"Breakdown," the red mech nearly whispered, optics hardening in silent rage.

"I didn't know," Terra responded softly. "I didn't know that the data being sent to me had been collected from…from an extraterrestrial. But when I did…that's when I left…when I escaped to the federal government and reported their illicit activities. I couldn't stand the thought of living with myself knowing that upon first contact with…with an alien intelligence…I helped to…to _experiment_ on it! That data collected from it, resulted in weapons of war! That my research would be used to kill other intelligent lifeforms before we ever truly spoke! And now," she paused gulping for air, "and now, my family is _dead _because of it! Dead _because of me! Dead because I couldn't see the consequences through my selfishness!_"

Terra paused then, shoulders heaving. After a few tense moments, she slowly looked up once more, tears streaming from her eyes. "At least give me the opportunity to make it right. Please," she pleaded, "to make it all right for my family and for the poor being I had no idea who was being tortured to death for the sake of my research analysis. If I can do that then," she paused and inhaled deeply, "if I can do that then I will happily let you kill me."

Silence. How can silence convey so much meaning? How can silence speak volumes? Knock Out was frozen. On one hand he wanted to rip the human before him into tiny, minuscule pieces. It was she that had analyzed Breakdown's life functions like a Petri dish. After all this time, he had finally found the source of the abomination that had resulted in CYLAS. But on the other hand…hearing the pain and the anguish in her words, it was an echo of how his spark had resonated hollowly these past several months. As for the other humans he'd encountered, every last one of them had reeked of fear or putrid anger. Not one had shown regret for their actions, for their decisions—until now. It was enough to give him pause. The Lead Researcher? Maybe…just maybe there was an opportunity here and Knock Out was nothing if not an Opportunist. Besides, he'd still have the ability to kill her whenever he pleased. As soon as she lost her usefulness—just one last, major issue…

"How could you possibly help me? You are just a human," he sneered, optics narrowing suspiciously.

"I was the human whose research created the weapons you escaped from last night," she argued. "It was my research that led to the development of MECH's current weapons technology. I still possess my original research journals. If we can acquire, say, one of their weapons and any of the ammunition, I can reverse engineer the effects and give you immunity from the immobilizer rounds. You would also have an idea what MECH has done in terms of technology, is doing, and will do if they have not already done so. Please, you can kill me now and satisfy your petty anger with me or you let me help you destroy these sons of bitches once and for all and we both can leave this planet in peace. I only ask for the opportunity to watch you do it."

A cold, steely resolve had leeched into her voice. Knock Out met her stony glare with his own. He continued the stand-off, searching…analyzing. After a very long extended pause and Knock Out was satisfied that there were no ulterior motives, he spoke.

"Fine. You make good on your word and I'll ensure you get a front row seat at final curtain call with a swift death at the end. Deal?"

The jade stones never wavered.

"Deal."


	9. Chapter 8: Going the Distance

**A/N: Whoo-hoo! Welcome back. Hope you guys are enjoying the ride. As for the song choice, it was what was playing on my Pandora channel at the time I was writing the chapter. What kind of music do you think KO would listen to? Drop your reply in a review :) Side note, new Transformers series coming to Netflix. Super-stoked!**

"So what do I even call you anyway?" Terra asked idly, watching with a bored eye as more mile markers zipped past in a blur.

They had been on the road the greater portion of a day now, stopping only for her necessities and once at a car wash (to which Knock Out demanded she rinse the dust from his finish and who was she to argue with a 20-foot death machine that had just split her open as easily as a hot knife slices butter?) They had wasted no time leaving southern California behind and had all but flown through Nevada.

On one of their first stops, Knock Out had agreed she would need serviceable clothes, food, and other "human frivolities," he had said with a sneer. Since she still had cash on her person (the MECH agents had not taken time to search her during the snatch-and-grab thankfully!) most of her purchases had been fast, efficient, and without fuss.

Now here they were, the sun dimly setting through Knock Out's tinted rear glass, mile after mile of black asphalt disappearing underneath his treads. She had not asked where they were heading despite a growing curiosity; she figured the alien car would inform her when her services were necessary. Or kill her anyway. At this point six in one, was a half dozen in the other. Terra figured she should at least know _who_ it was that she was riding with (or plotting her imminent death).

The car didn't respond for several long moments and Terra feared that they were once again back to sullen, long-drawn out silences. She had just turned her full attention back to the passenger side window when the car responded.

"My designation is Knock Out," the deceivingly suave voice replied from the stereo speakers.

"Knock Out," she repeated softly. She smirked to herself. "I have to say the name suits you."

He gave a noncommittal grunt.

"So are there more of you?" she queried, again attempting some form of conversation.

"Perhaps," came the noncommittal answer. Terra huffed in annoyance.

"So…why aren't any of them helping you?" she tried again.

"You are a nosy little pest, aren't you?" Knock Out growled irritably.

"I'm a scientist. It was my job to be nosy," she fired back, snubbing her nose in the air. She glanced over at the radio head unit. It seemed to be the most "sensible" location to speak to the car. "I'm only trying to make conversation. We've been traveling for hours and you've barely said three sentences to me. If we are going to do this, don't you think we should know a little about each other?" Terra reasoned.

The speakers barked with laughter. "Ha! Hardly. I know all I need to know about you. Why would I possibly need or _want_ to know anything else?"

Terra frowned. She didn't want to admit it, but his words _stung_. The one being left in the world she could converse with and she realized she was a little more than a liability to him. So much for a partnership. She let the one-sided conversation drop and resumed her blank stare out at the countryside, never having felt more alone in the world than now.

* * *

Night had fallen and the moon was high in the sky when Terra finally snapped. Hours upon hours of time had elapsed with nothing to do but stare out a darkened passenger window. No conversation, no radio, no cell phone, not even a book. Terra glanced back inside and studied the interior for the 46th time that night. Immaculate leather seats trimmed in red stitch glowed softly under several red LED lighting strips that accented the door panel, instrument cluster, and head unit. The interior was immaculate and showroom quality. Terra doubted a human had ever set foot within, let alone ridden for hours and hours on end. Was this how her parents felt during car rides as kids before the onrush of technology that supercharged and occupied _her _generation?

She sighed, eyes slowly settling on the head unit once more. Well, if she couldn't invite polite conversation, maybe instigating would be the better option—anything to break the sweltering silence. With an evil smirk, she reached for the radio dial—sleep deprivation, mental exhaustion, and a simmering desire to just be _vindictive _subduing her more rational human capacity. With a soft _click _the radio issued a barely audible muddle of sound. Idly, she turned the knob clockwise, raising the subtle volume to a decibel more readily audible. Five seconds later, the knob _clicked_ off. Not entirely unexpected.

Terra grinned and turned the radio back on. Again, the music shut off abruptly. With a huff, she turned the radio on for a third time and just for good measure—she cranked it.

"_AH! FOR THE LOVE OF PRIMUS! WOULD YOU STOP!?"_ Knock Out's voice snarled loudly throughout all the speakers. Nothing amplified his anger quite like stereo surround sound.

"NO! I won't 'STOP'!'" she yelled back just as angrily. "We've been traveling through Bumfuck Nowhere for the past DAY and you refuse to even speak with me! I'm bored. I'm tired. I'm mentally exhausted. My back is _killing_ me and I have no idea what we're doing or where we're going or when we'll get to wherever 'there' is or…or….anything! I've barely asked you for restroom breaks, let alone anything else! The least you could do is allow me some semblance of normalcy and let me listen to some music since you absolutely refuse to even acknowledge my existence!"

She sat back, hard, against the seat, arms crossed defiantly. Her hair was disheveled and dark circles enunciated the darker flecks of green in her eyes. Currently, those eyes were boring daggers into the stereo, but damn! That actually felt _good._

Several long, tense moments passed. Finally, a flicker of movement drew her eye and she glanced up to see the rear view mirror centering on her person.

"Fine," came the terse reply. "But road trip rules apply. _I _choose the music." The radio knob _clicked _softly and just like that the smooth voice of Michael Jackson's "_Billy Jean" _filled the cabin.

Terra was caught flat-footed. She hadn't expected him to cave that easily. She had half-hoped for a fight. Anything really to break the overwhelming silence she had been trapped within over the last day. It wasn't much, but it was a small start and a far cry from being thrown on a dirty workbench and ripped open like a shoulder roast. _But_ _Michael Jackson? _"Huh. I never took you for a Michael Jackson fan."

"It's more the time period than the artist."

* * *

The first hints of dawn were just streaking the sky when Knock Out's voice roused Terra from her slumber. She sat slumped against the passenger glass, soft snores audible in time with her breaths.

"Hey, fleshbag! Wakey-wakey."

A pained groaned was his only response. Not to be deterred and definitely not one to forgive, Knock Out abruptly lowered his passenger window. The sudden blast of chill, morning air coupled with the highway roar of the wind elicited the exact response he wanted.

"What the actual fuck!? Ah! For Pete's sake!" she gasped as the wind ripped across her brow. "Was that really fucking necessary!?"

"No, it wasn't, but neither was cranking my radio knob to infinity and beyond," the car drawled lazily. Terra could practically _hear _the smirk leaching into his voice. She rubbed the slight bump where her forehead had connected with the door panel unexpectedly.

"You are such a jerk," she mumbled grumpily.

"Well, you aren't exactly sunshine and rainbows yourself. Now, listen up. I've decided how this mutual agreement is going to go down." That caught her attention.

"You mentioned your research," Knock Out began.

"Yes." she ventured, "But it's all back at my workplace in California…in the OPPOSITE direction we just came from."

"Never mind the physical location. We need access to the World Wide Web, specifically a system that can hack your database remotely and pull what we seek from the hard drive."

"There's no way," Terra objected. She had encrypted the research herself. It used a symmetric encryption algorithm not unlike what the government used to protect classified data. To an extent, her research _was _classified government property since she entered witness protection. Even a professional hacker would be hard-pressed to retrieve her data.

"Ah! Not while I'm burning rubber here, but I most certainly can with the right tools back on the _Nemesis_."

"The _Nemesis_?" she repeated.

"Hmm. Yes. Our flagship. I will have all the tools and capabilities I need to access your files and you will have all the material needed to construct countermeasures against MECH weaponry," the car explained; however, it seemed as if Terra didn't hear anything past the words "flagship."

"Flagship?" she echoed again, "Like a spaceship? You have a spaceship?"

Knock Out growled in frustration. "Yes! We have a spaceship! Seriously? Is such a concept as interstellar space travel such a foreign notion to you meat sacks? How in the name of Primus do you think I got here, on your planet in the first place?"

Terra blinked, finally registering the full extent of his previous statement. "Whoa. Stop for just one minute. You mean, you're going to take me to your ship? The _Nemesis?_" She barked a laugh. "Forgive me for sounding ignorant, it's just that…well…the _Nemesis_ doesn't exactly sound like a Carnival cruise ship, you know? And no offense, but if any of your people are like you, then I don't really expect to be welcomed aboard with open arms."

Knock Out chuckled lightly. Oh, she was a quick study, this one. In the brief time they had traveled together he had come to realize she was a rather brazen creature. It never took long for her to say exactly what was brewing in her little organic brain. Her emotions were always visible, but her logic seemed to invariably overrule her initial reactions—something he had not observed often in humans. Most were rather irrational and emotional little meat bags (the Autobot _pets_, for starters). Even though he had never come out and told her _exactly_ who or what he was, his actions had made it abundantly clear where his feelings concerning human sanctity were. This human was under no false impressions and yet she had still agreed to abet him, death promise and all. A miniscule part of him respected that. When he was finished with her, he would grant her a quick, painless death…so long as she delivered.

It had taken him most of the night to formulate a plan that could get them both onboard the _Nemesis_ without issue. Using her as a lab experiment seemed the best course of action. The thought of leaving her behind at a designated location had appealed at first, but a quick scan of local media channels instantly told him that option was out. Her visage was plastered all over major media outlets. And what if she ran? He didn't think it likely given how aggressive MECH had been in their search for her. The human probably wouldn't have minded going to ground for a bit. But then logistics became a glaring problem. She would need sustenance and fairly regularly, which meant traversing the public routinely for both of them. Not to mention the need to acquire tools or technology. Even if _she_ managed to avoid detection, he still feared that MECH may have some technology that could track _his_ energy signature. He didn't know for sure, but after those two agents had nearly shot him, he wasn't going to take any unnecessary risks. And Knock Out most certainly was not a risk taker. When you played games, you played to _win._

In the end he had decided that returning to the _Nemesis _would provide the best source of security for both he and his human tool, his lab could manufacture or replicate most of the human's research, and he could formulate a strategy to find their base of operations and destroy MECH once and for all. Breakdown would finally be avenged. But first, he had to get back to the _Nemesis_…He focused on his passenger.

"You would be correct, human, but I have a plan. Not unlike you, my position among my peers grants me certain _jurisdictions_, one could say. Namely, in the realm of scientific endeavors."

Terra thought for a moment as his words slowly sunk in. "You. You're a scientist too."

"Chief Medical Officer to be precise, but my duties allow me to quite literally 'experiment' in other sciences."

There was a beat and then the underlying realization. "You're going to take me back to your ship as a human lab rat, aren't you?"

"Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!" the Aston Martin snarked. Another small chuckle vibrated through the cabin. "It's really the only way I can justify your presence onboard without attracting unwanted attention," he added. "Besides, we need time and resources to find and counter MECH. You are now a missing person and I am a sitting target just rolling along this highway. We can't accomplish anything this way. The _Nemesis _will provide everything we need in regards to shielding from detection, raw material, and accessibility to your research."

Terra hated to admit it, but his analysis was rock solid. The fact that Knock Out had bested the last two agents was due more to happenstance than actual strategy. Looking back, she realized she had inadvertently distracted them, resulting in their demise. Things could have gone very differently. She knew more than anyone just how capable those assault rifles were at taking down a Transformer—and all it would have taken was one good, or even lucky shot. MECH would certainly be a hornet's nest now. She had evaded them twice over. Even with the tracking device removed, the thought of evading them a third time on her own made her nauseous. No one could get that lucky—not without resources.

From the sound of things, the red Aston had everything she would need. It was just…for the first time since making her fateful deal, Terra realized just how woefully disadvantaged she truly stood and how terribly reliant she was on this being's "good graces." There wasn't anything keeping him from torturing or killing her later, after he got what he wanted. Was this truly a better option than MECH? Was this too high a price to pay for avenging her family? As if reading her thoughts, the car spoke up quietly.

"Still want revenge, fleshy? How far are you willing to go?"

Terra swallowed the lump in her throat. Images of her husband, their wedding day, the birth of her children…and so many more memories flashed across her mind's eye like a film reel. And then another memory rose up unbidden. It had been an email, a video file of the creature from whence she had deciphered so much data. It was the first visible evidence of the Top Secret project she had been assigned to work. The roar of fury and pain ringing in her memory was just as savage as the first day she heard it—the day she had decided to walk away. That creature, no, that _being_ held significance to the Transformer she now rode within. She didn't know how or in what way—a friend, a relative perhaps …but recalling Knock Out's reaction back at the barn...well, they were both here as a result of her actions, weren't they? It was time to put up, or shut up.

Terra narrowed her eyes and smiled grimly. "As far as I have to, Knock Out."

She heard him chuckle darkly. "Well-said, she-human. Now, let's be on our way." Abruptly, a swirling green and white vortex opened before them, a maelstrom of light and sound. There was no turning back. Not now.


	10. Chapter 9: Operation: Interrogation

**A/N: This chapter may be a bit hasty, but I wanted to get it posted before I went outta town this weekend. Hope you guys enjoy this week's chapter. I've been about 1-2 chapters ahead so I hope to post regularly, once a week until completion. Also, FYI I try to keep my material as close to canon as possible. For this series, I've pulled from IDW and the Aligned Continuity a little as well as some facts from the TF Wiki. I'm playing catch-up on my comic subscriptions so please pardon if I overlook anything.**

Terra had thought she had prepared herself for what was to come. Given her job and position as a mechanical engineer, she had been on the cutting edge of many technologies—hell, she had even created a few of them. She didn't think there was much in the world that could leave her astounded anymore. Other than meeting Knock Out, of course.

Damn, was she ever wrong.

The corridors of the _Nemesis_ dwarfed any and all access ways she had ever seen. The long purple hallways were even larger than nuclear bunker access tunnels designed for two-way semi-truck access. Sleek purple and silver mechs with faceless visors walked all around her as Knock Out carried her to his laboratory. Some cast a curious glance, heads tilting to follow the doctor's passing. A few gave them wide passage as if she were some diseased animal (to them Terra thought she probably was), but most preferred to ignore the atypical sight.

As soon as the portal of energy closed behind him, the mech had transformed, forcefully tossing her into the air like a human bean bag. For a split second, Terra had thought he would let her fall to her death too, but then she felt the steel-constricting grip of his fingers around her torso—and it was none too gentle. Air rushed from her lungs as his grip tightened. She reflexively pressed against his index finger, struggling for breath.

Knock Out was very well aware of his rough treatment with his "prisoner." And he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it just a little. The tiny insect deserved it after her irritating behavior the last several hours. As far as humans went, she was the most tolerable he'd encountered, but despite that fact, he unabashedly delighted in reminding her just how inferior she truly was. Like now.

After arriving on the _Nemesis_ he had a Vehicon fetch a holding pod, similar to that which he had designed to hold the Autobot children. Upon its arrival he unceremoniously dropped Terra in the pod and began the trek back to his laboratory. The drones mostly ignored him, and he them. The less curiosity the better. Thank Primus, the female had enough sense to keep quiet. It was going to be difficult enough keeping her alive long enough to accomplish their goal. Despite her agreement, he seriously doubted the human fully comprehended just how dangerous this ploy was going to be.

He had just rounded the last corner to the hallway that housed his laboratory when he stopped abruptly. He faintly heard a _clunk_ as the hapless human also felt the sudden stoppage. Before them, standing at the entrance to his lab was Soundwave.

_I should have known this wouldn't go unchallenged,_ he thought irritably.

"Hello, Soundwave. What brings you to this dreary corner of the _Nemesis_?" Knock Out asked, feigning innocence.

The Communications Officer silently pointed at the glass pod, a stricken Terra needing no encouragement to look her part as the terrified human lab experiment.

"Oh! That," Knock Out replied flatly, optics hooding with annoyance. "Just a side experiment I'm working on." He waved a hand dismissively. The best lies were partial truths; however, Soundwave remained in place, his stoic visor turning to fix on Knock Out's optics.

" Approval Authority: Required. Notifying: Shockwave," the metallic-monotoned voice of the Communications Officer responded.

_Slag._

"Not to worry, Soundwave. I'll notify my _Commander_ as soon as I secure the specimen," the medic replied quickly, uncertainty and maybe fear? leaking into his voice just a micron.

"Notification: Immediate." Wavelengths began to fluctuate across Soundwave's visage as he initiated the comm link.

"No! Soundwave, wait! I can explain!" Knock Out yelped with fervor, throwing up his unencumbered servo to try and placate the Third-in-Command. The last thing he needed was Shockwave getting his servos on Terra. It was bad enough he'd been moonlighting to knock off MECH agents, but if anyone discovered he was collaborating with a _human_ to kill other _humans_…he didn't really know how he was going to justify that one. Vendetta be slagged. For Pit's sake, he didn't know how he was going to justify this to _Soundwave! _But he needed to come up with something quick. He was as close as ever to finishing off those vermin; to be stopped now by command procedure? Preposterous.

The wavelengths flicking across the faceless screen paused at the medic's exclamation. For some reason the vacant visor unnerved the Aston even more.

"Explanation: Required. Final Warning."

Knock Out flicked his optics around nervously. Despite the empty corridor, he didn't want to have an involved conversation in the middle of the hallway. He vented slowly then said, "Please, come inside."

Soundwave nodded once then stepped aside so Knock Out could enter the code. It was a silent courtesy and probably his last, Knock Out suspected. Lighting flicked on automatically; the medical bay was exactly as he had left it. Knock Out waited until the doors hissed shut then placed a terrified Terra on the smooth surface of the nearest berth. She cowered against the farthest side of the pod, skin ashen and respirations to the point of near hyperventilation. He would bet his finest high grade that the human was regretting her life choices about now.

He turned and faced Soundwave, waving a palm in Terra's direction. "This is the human responsible for Cybertronian technology being in human hands," he said lowly. "I thought it fitting to capture it and render the same courtesies to it as it did to Breakdown." He crossed his arms across his chest plates, a hint of smugness permeating each word that left his glossa. He watched as Soundwave slowly turned and stared at the captive human.

The silence stretched. Finally, the Communications Officer turned back to Knock Out and then proceeded to play snippets of CCTV of a red Aston Martin 177 from security and traffic cameras from all over the nation and all within the last six months—the approximate time frame he started hunting MECH agents for fun. He slapped a servo to his forehead and released a pained groan of frustration. He should have known. Nothing, absolutely _nothing¸ _slipped by Soundwave.

"Explanation: Incomplete. Truth: Recommended."

"Fine," Knock Out ground out between clenched denta. "As you have so _eloquently _shown, I've been hunting and killing every human connected to Breakdown's disappearance and subsequent…reanimation. I find the mere idea of humans hijacking our frames and parasitically using our bodies fragging abhorrent! And that knowledge didn't die with CYLAS or Breakdown. It still festers in the human organization MECH. They gather in the shadows while we fight the Autobots, just waiting for one side or the other to lose a body. We've had the Autobots on the run for years, but we've always had the overwhelming majority. Now, we've lost half our forces thanks to that traitorous Insecta-Queen and Starscream's incompetent meddling in my experiments! Megatron may not see humans as a threat now, but they have numbers."

Knock Out paused then, gauging Soundwave's reaction. When none was forthcoming he continued.

"You've been watching me these last several months, so you know that humans are more than capable of taking a Cybertronian down. They stole Starscream's T-cog for the love of Primus! Imagine if they begin replicating that biological function? The Decepticons cannot afford to fight a war on two fronts at this juncture. So, I intend to stop it _now, _before humans use our own biology against us. It's not a matter of _if_ the fleshbags will develop technology to fight us, but _when…_and this one," he pointed a sharpened digit at Terra, "…was ultimately responsible for it."

Soundwave's visored face turned once again to study Terra. By this time, her quaking had subsided and although she was still well and truly terrified, she had heard enough of Knock Out's explanation to begin to see his machinations in retaining her. Oh, there was bitterness in his words and deep-seated loathing, but whether for her directly or for her former employers she couldn't decipher. It was probably both given what she just heard.

Had MECH truly reanimated a Transformer corpse? And what was that about 'parasitically using' their bodies? It all sounded like a horrifying nightmare straight from a science fiction novel. But this was no dream and the aliens surrounding her were very much solid, alive, and real. Her throbbing back was also a vague, but constant reminder in this surreal exchange.

Using alien corpses. Parasitic control. What the fuck had MECH done? What had happened in the months since she tried to escape? No wonder Knock Out held such venom towards the human race. A part of her couldn't blame him for despising humans, herself included. It was also the second instance she recalled him speaking of "Breakdown." It confirmed her suspicions that this individual was someone significant to him, someone who was taken and she had played a role in it—no matter how trivial.

Finally, there was the part about a war! What war!? She had never been an avid news watcher, but she had always felt she kept pretty good tabs on world happenings. Wouldn't someone have noticed an extraterrestrial _war_ on the planet!? What in the name of Mary, Mother of God, had she gotten into?

She then became intensely aware that the second alien, Soundwave, was still studying her. Knock Out had also grown quiet, arms crossed over his chassis, optics just as unreadable as that first exchange back in the barn. Terra realized with an acute sense of alarm that what happened next was strictly and unequivocally on her. Knock Out's explanation had been masterfully crafted. It spoke truth and at the same time absolved him of any collaboration with her. Depending on the second Transformer's response, Knock Out could very well turn this ruse into a reality and repudiate her. There was nothing to stop him. What was she to him besides a trivial means to an end anyway? If she died here and now, he was no worse for wear than when he started. A bitter taste entered her mouth as she realized just how fool-hardy she had been to even agree to this. But then again, once MECH had found her had she really even had a choice? Oh, the alien had played her well! He'd played her like a maestro before a symphony. Terra looked up at the faceless mech whom continued to stare at her intently. She was taken aback when it addressed her directly.

"Human: Terra Elizabeth Marcathony-Evans. Allegations: Inconclusive. Exposition: Required."

She stared dumbly for a moment as her mind processed what this new Transformer had spoken. "Me? You want to hear from me?" she asked tentatively.

He gave one distinct nod of the helm. What could she say? What could she truly even _do? _Her heart hammered within her chest as her mind raced to cover all the possible outcomes of this exchange. None of them boded well for her. What she said next would dictate whether she truly did end up as Knock Out's next lab experiment or a useful lab "partner" that could help these "Decepticons" stop a necromancing terrorist cell. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

She looked up at the mech called Soundwave and swallowed nervously. _No pressure, Terra Evans. _"It is true, what Knock Out says," she began slowly.

The visor glinted.

"I was the lead researcher for MECH. It was through my studies that they were able to produce weapons that can debilitate you, hurt you. But I tell you now, that I had no idea exactly what or _who _my data originated from. At the time, I was an eager post-doc, anxious to prove my worth. I asked all the wrong questions in all the wrong areas. I realize that now. I was told that the raw data was from a 'cutting-edge technology' captured from an enemy country. They told me I would be doing a great service to my country. My job was to reverse-engineer it and improve the quality of our weapons and defenses. It wasn't until much much later I learned the truth concerning the origin of my research. I was appalled. Disgusted. Angry. I had been reverse engineering a living being, an alien species, perhaps even our first contact! I left MECH's services immediately and reported my findings to the US government.

My research was classified. My family and I were taken and hidden. But it was not enough. MECH found me-found us-and killed my family as retaliation. I tried running but I didn't realize they had planted a second tracking device on me. Knock Out discovered it by accident and used it to find me.

When Knock Out caught me, I told him that after what MECH had done to my family I would give him access to my research so that he could develop a proper defense against their weaponry and ultimately destroy them. I know I do not deserve any mercies from you or your kind after what I have done," she exhaled shakily, "but I do ask for the opportunity to try and make it right-for you and for my family. I can only hope that their deaths will be brutal and that mine will be quick."

The visor glinted once more. The silence stretched for so long and the mech remained so motionless and impassive, Terra wondered if he'd frozen. Finally, Soundwave straightened and faced Knock Out once more.

"Explanation: Sufficient. Human Subject: Advantageous." And then the Communications Officer turned to leave the med bay, as if nothing more needed to be said.

Knock Out blinked, surprised. "That's it? You aren't going to report this to Shockwave?"

Soundwave straightened and then turned back to the Medical Officer. There was a brief flash across his visor and then an image of Breakdown, before he lost his optic. A second image appeared, this one of a human family. An adult male and a female, with two very small offspring. Knock Out recognized Terra as the adult female. The others-those must have been her family. As fast as it appeared, the image dissolved leaving an impassive blank screen once more.

"_Conjunx Endura_: Closure necessary. Retribution: Desired. Discretion: Advised." Then the mech walked away, doors hissing shut in his wake.

* * *

A thick, heavy silence fell in the medbay. It was so absolute, one could hear the distant hum of the _Nemesis' _engines. Terra peeled her eyes from the closed medbay doors and looked to Knock Out. He met her questioning gaze and gave his rounded shoulders a shrug.

"I suppose that means we are in the clear."

Terra's shock and incredulity waned as Knock Out spoke, only to be replaced by an intense anger and resentment.

"We!? Oh, now it's _WE!?_ You were perfectly OK with throwing me under the bus five seconds ago! _AND NOW IT'S BACK TO 'WE!?" _she fumed. Tears of relief and anger streaming down her face.

"Ah. ah. ah," Knock Out tsked, while holding up a pointed digit. "I told you that making you out to be my lab experiment would be the best possible option to get you on board, now didn't I? And if our little gambit didn't pass, I couldn't have justified turning you loose again to babble to your fellow humans, or worse, the Autobots. Besides, Missy, you forfeited your life to me when you agreed to give me your research in exchange for this little adventure, or did you already forget that part of the deal? Although I would much rather do this with your assistance, if it comes down to my plating over your life, I'll cover my aft every time." By this time, he had bent to look her square in the eye, one intensely red iris contracting to scrutinize her reaction.

Terra sat back down, her green gaze not once waivering under his scathing glare. It was just as she expected, after all. She was a means to an end-nothing more, nothing less. It was just a little bit better than being currently dead.

She sighed and broke eye contact, turning her head away angrily. "Fine. Let's just get this over with," she said while wrapping her arms around her knees. Knock Out stood back up and turned to the medbay doors.

"Good. I'm glad we are finally clear on this arrangement. Now if you will excuse me, I must go and tend to some personal matters before we get started." He pivoted on on his pede and walked out of the medbay, the doors closing with a sense of finality behind him. Terra never spared him a glance.


	11. Chapter 10: Recollections

**A/N: So this chapter ended up being a fairly good-sized background piece. As I stated earlier I try to stick to canon as much as possible. Hopefully with this installment you will better understand Knock Out's motivations. A bit shorter than normal, but I felt it was integral to move the story along.  
**

Knock Out was relieved to be away from the fleshling's presence. He didn't want to admit it, but Soundwave's interrogation had rattled him deeply. It wasn't just the close brush with the repercussions of bringing a fleshling on board either. He could easily explain that away, even if Shockwave grew wise to his under-the-table dealings. Knock Out felt that the Chief Engineer had bigger things on his processor than tinkering around in organic biology. No, Knock Out was agitated from the images the Communications Officer had projected on his visor-the fact he had found a familial photo of the human AND Breakdown. The fact that Soundwave equated the two. His relationship with Breakdown, his _Conjunx Endura,_ was far more significant than the marital bonds of humans. Or so he thought.

He had felt it. He knew the very moment Breakdown went offline. It had damn near incapacitated him; for solar cycles afterwards he had felt nothing but pain-deep, reverberating pain that found no relief. It manifested physically and also mentally. Most of the Decepticons he now served with had no idea what kind of torture he wrestled with in the days following Breakdown's termination. _Conjunx Endura_ had not occured on Cybertron since well before the Golden Age. Most Decepticons didn't even know of such a bond and the one that did-had sworn to never allow such weakness permeate his ranks. His and Breakdown's allegiance to the Decepticon Army had been a spectacular exception to Megatron's rule.

They were outliers in the Decepticon ranks. Neither of them were true Cybertronians, for instance. They had come from Velocitron, one of the colonial planets that had been forgotten to the vestiges of time-that is until the war tore things asunder. When word of the war reached them, Breakdown leaped at the chance to leave the Speed Planet and prove his worth. His _Conjux _had never found life on Velocitron especially savory given his larger, bulkier and slower frame; however, on Cybertron things were quite different. The Autobots had readily enlisted his larger partner, eager to put his bulk and strength to good use. Knock Out, on the other hand, decided to remain neutral. It wasn't _his_ war, after all, and for the most part, the Autobots had not pressed the issue. He had come for the benefit of Breakdown, knowing his partner would have a happier life off of their home planet. However, as the war drug on, casualties mounted, and resources dwindled, Knock Out found himself pressed into service. His skills as an aerodynamics surgeon expanded into those encompassing field triage. Neutrality was becoming harder and harder to cling to.

The flashpoint ignited on the day Breakdown met Megatron in battle. Up until that point, there hadn't been a Decepticon soldier that could stand against his _Conjunx _in battle. The Decepticons succeeded in achieving their objective, but Breakdown pursued them and came face-to-face with none other than Megatron himself. Breakdown challenged the gladiator that day, swearing that if Megatron could best him in battle, he would join the Decepticons. Knock Out recalled the boast well. Breakdown had not thought there was a 'bot alive that could best him in a fight, but little did he realize his pride would be his undoing. Megatron, having heard about the powerful Autobot warrior, knew that it would be far more advantageous to recruit his enemy than to kill him outright, so he agreed.

The fight lasted for cycles with neither opponent truly getting the edge over the other. Whether by design or by fate, the fight came to an end when Breakdown lost his footing and blocked too slow. Megatron's sword cut through the Autobot's defenses and Breakdown found himself on his knees, yielding to the Great Slagmaker, sword point under his chin. A warrior of honor, Breakdown joined the Decepticons that vorn.

As Megatron prepared to leave the battlefield, Breakdown approached the warlord with his one concern. By virtue of being Velocitronian by origin and not Cybertronian, he could not leave his _Conjunx Endura_. Breakdown lauded his partner's skill as a medic and emphasized how both sides were sorely hurting for competent mechs with medical capabilities. And so it was that Knock Out found himself swearing allegiance to the Decepticons alongside his partner. The Decepticons had gotten two recruits for the price of one. Megatron made them swear to never mention their unique bond outside of command circles and should the loss of one inhibit the functionality of the other, then he would personally see to it that the living mech's suffering would end abruptly. So, the two of them became the only _Conjunx Endura_ pair in the Decepticon Army.

When Breakdown did not return from that fateful mission and his spark had felt like it was splitting in two, Knock Out knew his position among the Decepticons was precarious. Megatron had watched him quite keenly for those first few solar weeks, but Knock Out hid his pain quite well. He threw himself into his medical officer responsibilities and even attempted a few field missions. However, despite his best efforts, Megatron knew that Knock Out was not the warrior his _Conjunx_ had been and the warlord now had the weaker half of a broken pair.

He was still a capable Decepticon! For frag's sake, he had taken down Optimus once! _But Breakdown had still been...functional_, the tiny voice in his processor whispered. No. There was nothing left to it-his only redeeming value to Megatron and the Decepticon's had been his medical expertise. Perhaps that was why he was pushing so hard for MECH's eradication. He needed that validation, if only for himself-to know he was still useful and not just a fragging medic. Even if Megatron never learned that he disposed of the human filth, he wanted to terminate MECH for their desecration of Breakdown. He wanted, more than anything, to know he had done _something._

But then there was the prickly issue concerning the human, Terra Evans. Knowing her family unit had been killed by the same fiends was one matter. He could classify that-box it up, partition it off and use that knowledge to get what he wanted-namely her cooperation. However, _seeing_ her with her family unit-that had disturbed some deeply buried feelings.

Having now seen her family and having previously bore witness to the bitterness with which Terra had mourned that loss, Knock Out realized, much to his chagrin, he was not entirely alone. Someone else had suffered a catastrophic loss, the same as he-perhaps more so. Terra had had sparklings-offspring. Innocent life that had paid in blood for the transgressions of their creator. War was the Pit incarnate. He had seen innocent life taken before, but that was to be expected in civil war. It could not be avoided. The Evans human's family, they had not been in war. They had not been fighting anyone. They forfeited their lives as a punishment for Terra's paltry attempt at morality in an organization where morality was nonexistent.

He knew not how deep the bond between humans went, but he recognized that the human with him had experienced on some level the same amount of pain he had. She had lost her partner and her children. He was not alone in grief anymore. That tenuous link, that tiny kernel of mutual suffering, gave him both solace and terror. He did not _want _to feel another connection-with anything. It was the reason he treated her so harshly now. If he rebuffed the human enough, it wouldn't hurt near as badly when he offlined her later.

_But could you really follow through knowing she was manipulated just as you had been? Lost as much as you have to the same entity?_

So many similarities. Both were scientists. Both had been party to an organization that made them each question their place within it. Both of them were alone. And both were willing to take drastic measures to avenge those who had been taken.

Knock Out growled out loud as he took a ration of energon and seated himself in the far corner of the refueling lounge. Several Vehicons cast him a curious glance; he met their stares with a glowering scowl. The glances averted quickly; no one wanting to leave a lasting impression on the Mad Doctor when he was in such a foul temper.

Primus curse him to the Pit! The sooner he had what he needed the better. If he pandered to these ridiculous feelings much longer, he'd be accused of being an Autobot.


	12. Chapter 11: Galvinization

**A/N: So things are going to take a darker turn here. I've decided to change the rating to "M" for this story. Mainly for the depictions of violence previously and also...depictions of violence to come. This story wasn't intended to make you feel warm and fuzzy. **

**Chapter 11: Galvanization**

Terra's head snapped up at the sound of the medbay doors hissing open. Knock Out strolled inside, languid as a cat. "All right, my dear. Let's see about this classified research of yours."

She stood up as he approached, green eyes wary and distrustful. Good. The less she trusted him the better off they both would be. He removed the top of the container and tipped the opening into his palm. Despite her best efforts, the human slid down the glass cylinder to land in hand. Knock Out smirked at her discomfort and strode to the large computer console that dominated one corner of the massive medical bay.

He dropped her neatly on the expansive interface, clicking several keys in rapid succession. The massive screen powered on, displaying a dizzying array of strange alien characters that scrolled much too fast for Terra's human eye to catch. She temporarily forgot her melancholy as her natural curiosity took over, her eyes wide in fascination as she beheld the wonder that was Cybertronian computer technology.

"This is incredible," she whispered.

Knock Out chuckled softly. "Oh, but we haven't even begun, dear human. Now then, what is the physical location of the system that houses your research?"

She turned to him, eyes clouded in thought. "Well, my primary office was in San Jose, but I believe all my documentation was sent to the NASA Research Center at Edwards."

"Got it," Knock Out replied, slender digits flying over the touch keys with practiced speed.

"Already!?" she exclaimed, eyes going wider than before, "But that took, like, no time at all!"

Knock Out smirked knowingly. "Didn't I tell you that having the proper equipment would make this venture so much easier? You fleshies think your technology is so advanced and intimately complicated," he chided. "We've had _millions_ of years to perfect and streamline that which you've only just brushed the surface on these last 100 years. Given the proper tools and equipment, an Insecticon could hack your networks."

Terra crossed her arms in aggravation. "Well considering that the human race is a _young_ species by your standards, I think we've done pretty good for ourselves developing technology across the timespan that we had. Besides, we didn't even know about other intelligent life until you came along. How were we supposed to know that other species had the technological know-how to hack our systems? We were mainly concerned with each other." she countered pointedly.

"Ah. Humans. Arrogant as always," Knock Out sighed while tapping away on the keys.

"Look who's talking," the human quipped under her breath.

"Come again?" Knock Out glanced down, an optic ridge raised in annoyance. His concentration had mainly been directed at the screen. He wasn't quite prepared for a war of witticism. "Did you just call me...arrogant?" His claws paused over the keys.

Terra snickered. The questioning look of annoyance coupled with the Decepticon's wide, brilliant optics set within his pale faceplates gave her the impression of an owl in a spotlight. "I'm sorry," she sniggered, trying to hide her mirth at his ridiculous image. "I guess I'm the pot calling the kettle black."

"Hmmm." He turned back to the console. Silence fell over the duo. Terra resumed her composure and mainly observed as Knock Out sorted through the spreadsheets, graphics, charts, and dissertations of her research. She hoped that he would ask a question, or point out something in particular, but his intense review continued in quiet, optics hardly sparing her a glance. The only sounds were the sharp clicks from his servos inputting command keys.

She had been incredibly thorough, Knock Out noted. Her notes had been meticulous-every figure specific, detailed, and precise. He now understood why she said she had not known the origin of the data. Every component she had analyzed from Breakdown's physiology had been compartmentalized into a subset-for instance, Breakdown's shoulder mounted missile cannon. Within her research, there were only images of the cannon itself, along with operational specs. From the photo he viewed, one could have never known it had been attached to a living being. The same could be said for a piece of body armor. All of the data sets were abstract from the whole component. Because Terra had not known at this time that alien life existed, let alone be so technologically advanced, the engineer could have never guessed the weapons systems she was given to analyze had originated from a living being. She had been masterfully deceived.

"Knock Out?"

"Hmm?" he answered, optics still scanning through the massive amount of information.

"Who was Breakdown?" she asked, then added hesitantly, "to you, I mean."

The servos froze. Slowly, he turned from the research data and looked at the human. She had not been looking at him when she broached the subject, but rather had been and still was staring at the screen. When he didn't answer, she continued speaking.

"I know he was someone important to you. The way you reacted...back at that abandoned barn and again when you and that other individual, Soundwave, were discussing what to do about all this," she waved a hand in the air. "This vendetta of yours is more than MECH or myself using your biological technology. Will you tell me what happened?"

The silence grew thicker, heavier. He deliberated on her question for what felt like an eternity. On one hand he wanted to explain, he wanted her to know just whom it was he had lost. He wanted to tell her because, frankly, he'd been unable to tell anyone else. His vow to Megatron had ensured a silent agony. No one could know the pain he felt, let alone be able to see it less Megatron made good on his promise and terminated him for his show of weakness. But Terra Evans wasn't Cybertronian, or Velocitronian. She wasn't bound to the Decepticons, nor owed loyalty to anyone other than maybe herself. Her government had failed her. Family was nonexistent. She couldn't blackmail him or even threaten to. Terra was outside all the spheres of influence. Besides even if he did tell her, could a human truly grasp the concepts surrounding such an alien concept_?_ Probably not, so what could it hurt?

But on the other hand, he hated her. He hated how she made him feel and he hated the fact that her quiet resolution to fix her mistakes of the past despite his aloof and downright nasty attitude towards her was slowly eating away at his resolve to hate her anyway! It was so much easier to hate something when it hated you with equal fervor back. And this question! This stupid, innocuous, innocent, and yet caring question! Even after his callous comments to save his own aft over hers, she asked about him. _Who does that?_ Ultimately, after much deliberation and consternation, he caved. Frag it all. He had nothing to lose anyway. Not anymore.

He vented loudly, the sound deafening in the solitude of the medbay. "Breakdown was my _Conjunx Endura…_" he began softly and with those five words, he crossed a threshold he had never thought would occur.

* * *

Terra sat on the console, enraptured by Knock Out's narrative about his origins, his relationship with Breakdown, and the series of events which led them to Earth. She listened attentively. Although she was brimming with scientific curiosity, she refrained from asking questions. The fact that Knock Out had even chosen to disclose this information with her surprised her. Knock Out had never been what she would define as friendly-perhaps heavily restrained while being civil-but not even close to friendly. Conversations had been nonexistent between them. He had only ever given her just enough of an answer to silence any further questions. So why change the status quo now?

It wasn't long into his narrative that Terra noticed a slight change in his posture and a distant, almost longing look entering his optics, dimming the vibrant red into a smoldering scarlet. Terra got the feeling that he was no longer speaking _to _her, but rather just orating for himself.

She slowly began to realize that maybe this giant metal being before her was... grieving? She knew not what a _Conjunx Endura_ was, but given the context in which he told his story, Terra knew it was a significant personal relationship, perhaps a partner or significant other. If so, it most certainly explained his vehemence for humanity in general and MECH specifically. His story slowly explained the _why_ surrounding so much of the bizarre happenings over the last 60 hours or so. She became vaguely aware that Knock Out had stopped speaking, but was staring off into some distant past.

"You've not told anyone before this, have you?" she asked softly.

Her voice disturbed his reverie, the red optics refocused and he glanced down at the human next to his elbow. "No. I have not. I was forbidden by our leader, Megatron. Mine and Breakdown's partnership was viewed more as a liability than a strength to the Decepticons. If one of us were to have been captured in battle, Megatron feared the other would desert or that the Autobots would blackmail us; afterall, Breakdown was once an Autobot. And to an extent, Megatron was right: either of us would have done what was necessary to rescue the other, this war be damned. Our greatest strength was also our greatest weakness and he knew it," Knock Out concluded bitterly.

"That's why all of this is a secret. Why that other Transformer, Soundwave advised us to be discreet," she mused, more to herself than to him.

"Yes. While killing the MECH humans prior to you could be seen as just a random and raucous sport, collaborating with you can now be seen as a direct violation of Megatron's orders if I'm lucky and as treason if I'm not."

"So why did Soundwave let you continue? Why not turn us in?"

Knock Out didn't reply immediately. The same questions had been burning through his processor as well. Why did Soundwave let them continue? It's not like he had ever had a _Conjunx Endura_ bond. _But he does have symbiotes..._His eyes grew wide and round. "Because he knows what it's like," the Aston whispered. His fingers began to fly across the keys, the sharp _clicks_ rapid-firing in such quick succession it reminded Terra of a hard rain on a tin roof.

Several new windows opened on the massive screen, one of them containing a picture of Soundwave. Although she couldn't read the language, Terra recognized the tell-tale layout of a dossier. She watched, mesmerized as Knock Out poured over the information, seemingly reading it faster than her research. Presently, he came across a window that, everytime he clicked it, a large red splash of Cybertronian writing blinked across the screen. He tried a couple more times, but each attempt was met with the same set of symbols. Finally, Knock Out sat back and vented. He glanced down to the human standing next to his forearms. She looked up at him curiously, the question evident on her face.

"Soundwave didn't turn us in because he knows what it's like to lose a bonded partner," he began. He clicked on one of the open dossier windows. "At this point in time, Soundwave had five symbiotes-minicon partners he used to assist in various missions." Knock Out clicked on two more windows. "Over time," he continued, "he has lost them. One by one. Until now, only Lazorbeak remains. The particulars of how they were lost are classified even to my access, but his general personnel file has changed over millennia. It's just...this war has been raging for so long most mechs who would have known Soundwave and his minicons at the beginning are probably offline by now."

"But you said bonds were forbidden," Terra pointed out.

"Mmm. _Conjunx Endura_ bonds are forbidden. At least on Cybertron. But as I said, Breakdown and I were from Velocitron and had bonded well before the war reached us. Symbiotic bonds to minicons are...different. But the psychological damage potential can be the same. Soundwave knows this and he probably also knows that death alone is sometimes not enough to heal."

"That's why he said closure was necessary," she looked at his face once more, realization blossoming in her green eyes. "Revenge on MECH is your closure. Revenge on...me," her voice dying to a whisper. "Killing me would be giving you closure. Killing all who were involved."

"You catch on quick, fleshling," he replied wryly, a smirk tugging at his lip components. "But then again, you probably already knew that and verbally acknowledging it affirms it for you."

It wasn't a foreign concept to her. Terra knew the moment Knock Out had spared her at the barn that theirs was a partnership based on revenge and killing. At the time her raw emotions and grief had all but trounced her logic. She still didn't regret it though. Killing every last soul tied to that organization would be but a tiny pittance for the gaping hole she felt at the loss of her family. When their deal had been struck, she had felt lifeless-worthless. A small dingy adrift in a vast, roiling sea with neither crew nor harbor. Helping Knock Out achieve his goals had restored her purpose, if only for a little bit. She needed that. She needed that anchor, but now she had a greater understanding of the circumstances. It was quite sombering. For all intents and purposes he was alone just as she too was alone-now united by the very force that stripped each of all that they loved.

In that moment, gone was the wife, the mother, the researcher, the scientist. That life had erupted into flame and turned to ashes. Her capture by MECH had thrown her precarious position in life into vivid detail. Knock Out's intervention, while self-serving, gave her back some direction, some small measure of control where she could influence an outcome. She could get back at those who had harmed her-harmed her family. She would have never had the ability to do so without the help of the Decepticon. Her resolve to see this through to the end solidified. Death at the hands of Knock Out would be a small but salty spit in the eye of those who had tried and twice failed to kill her. The ashes condensed. Dark, roiling retribution galvanized those ashes of her life past and created something new.

Terra's features hardened. "Yes, you're right. I did have those thoughts creeping around in the back of my head once."

"Are you having second thoughts about our...arrangement?" he inquired.

"No," she answered without hesitation. "If anything, it only reaffirms my conviction to help you."

Knock Out looked down at the tiny human, the ardor behind her words catching his attention. "Your conviction surprises me."

Terra laughed bitterly. "What else do I have to lose? My family? My life?" She scoffed. "I have nothing left but this tiny part you are asking me to play. Your revenge is mine too. And if we succeed, I say to you again I will be at peace with your intention to kill me, for there will be nothing left in this world for me to live for."

Knock Out stared at the tiny human femme for what felt like eons. She never wavered. Never faltered. Her resolution was just as staunch as the moment she uttered the words back at the barn. Finally, he gave her one small nod of his helm. "So be it. Play your part well and I will ensure your end will be quick and painless."

She nodded once.

"Let's get to it," he growled softly.


End file.
